Raymond
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By ralph
Sun, 01 Oct 2023
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3 comments
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Raymond
The season brings the oldness of a year.
A light straining out from a coal morning.
The radio wears a cardigan with news
of how much the coming months will cost.
How Christmas will be tight for many.
These mornings. They will not cease horror.
The twists in the bedsheets, a loss of faith in myself.
I could find a poem that answers the constant prayer.
The one with newspaper boys who are arm in arm.
I should make her coffee. Tell myself to try again.
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Comments
font is too small for me to
font is too small for me to read, which is a pity
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thanks Ralph. the twisting
thanks Ralph. the twisting and untwistnig of sheets and years.
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