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Nat Oct 2021
The old neighborhood is a labyrinth
Of second-story windows, lamplight and
Distant smells of pencils and dryer sheets
Of a Sunday dinner that never ends
IPM May 2018
I see her
in dimming light
beneath the lamplight on the street
our eyes meet
for the last time under a misty veil
I see her
she sees me
Richard Grahn Oct 2017
Blossoms in the wind
Meadows rich with fragrant gifts
Gentle lamplight flows

— The End —