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For David Who Lived Next Door

The old man's khaki shorts Still hangs on a string fastened to the back of his rocking chair On the veranda As the wind blows The chair rocks noiselessly I remember poignantly As the hour drew near He wore his khaki shorts Sat on the rocking chair Gazed upwards Like one counting the clouds He mumbled: Lord, is it it? Receive my poor soul, I tried.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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