There Is Never More But Less
J
James McLain
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Of course I watch,
the open
window becons would you not?
Yellow the moon
is not out above of reach.
The faint scent of a recent rain
has opened,
white wide the fallen magnolias.
This is not vanilla if it is.
The breeze through out the leaves
blow through the screen.
There is never more but always less.
The phone I hear it ring.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş