Night Coming!
E
Eric Cockrell
0
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hand on the brush,
grease on the wheel.
turning, and groaning,
the voices of men.
lone fire beneath the bridge,
stir the pot slowly.
shadows whisper with hunger,
stars answer with silence.
life laps out with flame,
hearts scorched seek each other.
the warmth of the body
that clings to the soul.
dreams of glass shatter,
tiny shreds of light.
tongues, and bare feet,
the moan of night coming!
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