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Paul Meadows
Poems
Dec 2013
3
There's a spot of touched impurity,
sitting in the field.
Next to all the other snow plots,
this one's beauty unsealed.
Giving warning of past times,
and no one yet has said it:
Relish the memory of touched impurity,
If only I'd have read it.
Written by
Paul Meadows
Chambersburg
(Chambersburg)
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