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Tag Archives: death

the pale cars on Lynwood Street

Posted on September 19, 2021 by Steve Simpson

We’re swirling leaves carried on the flow,
pebbles skimmed across the waves,
seabirds too ungainly to reach the sky.
We only touch time’s surface,
and never understand its depths.

~/~

On Friday, she knocked softly at the door.
She was elderly and frail, and she
held a schoolbook out to me.

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