Sooth say
A heavy stone skimming across a mill-pond. The sound of half a duck quacking.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
A Strange Goodbye
Even these tears
That you cried
Will be dry
When you get home.
Your cheeks
Will carry
A remembering
When you get home.
A heavy heart
With words unsaid
Carry to bed
When you get home.
I will carve
Your sharp name
Just the same
When I get home.
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