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We Old Men

Somewhere down the gravel path each carriage moves slowly and my great grandfather lumbers out, not yet ancient as I drag my hand across my eyes- these weary feet will also beg surprise in passersby, as the man keeps living, the unexpected soldier going in and out of Walmart coughing while the young close their eyes to pray.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 11/22/2012 4:08:00 PM
These are Good words of yours man, your poem creates a very clear picture in my minds eye, and it has me thinking, thats always a quality I like in poetry, thanks for that. Read ;{>
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Book: Shattered Sighs