The Night, Trembling
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The Night, Trembling I remember you arrivinga little shy, your gaze
intent,in early spring long beforemagnolias or even the crocuses. Our
mouths moved quic...
1 week ago
The Mumbling Jack precursor. Occasional thoughts on Baseball, Poetry, Art, Music, and other Obsessions real or imagined. Follow my new Mumbling Jack blog at the link below.
2 comments:
I thought poets were scared of punks.
You've got that backwards.
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