PROSE POEM pathos
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So little done,the pathos of things,this nearly man caught in ignorance on a lonely path where tempo treads softly,alone.A time out for heartache, primeval feelings sitting on a volcano in a bleak mid winter. Living for today one thing leads to another..out of the blue. A watershed..to catch this miracle, a glimpse of the soul..petal by petal being doubly blessed.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2020
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