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Thursday, February 10, 2011

I hear the cries as the poet relates them "to a mousie"

Where would I be
had you not survived
by the rafters
of Poesy,
my father muse?

I'd not be here
with a mousie
who watches his home
when the Bulldozers
get here

I hear the cries
as the poet
relates them
"to a mousie"


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