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Night Owl

grabs a hat from the hatstand fraught, he warps the midday sun no apricating mellow touch in haste, too early a venture while camouflaged conspirators beckon to no end, lest he dawdles through waxing moonlit gossamer and warms the trees of dusk

Copyright © | Year Posted 2023




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Date: 12/24/2023 3:10:00 AM
I can feel the angst in your words.. Really like how you arranged your words to get your perspective across..
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Culverhouse Avatar
Clive Culverhouse
Date: 12/24/2023 3:20:00 AM
Thanks for reading, much appreciated

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry