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Float alone

The dead are talking to me in dreams The living are mute They stare at you with intent I pass them silently, in a hurry I’m going to bring my father back. Dead or undead He doesn’t belong in this in between Every night I search to find him by an old well, starting inside I grab his stiff hand and keep it tight in mine We lean quietly by the well. Listening And waiting for the big show tonight

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things