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In a Barroom
She presses into the noise
like a tabacco leaf
pressing into the shape
of a coffin nail.
The smoky haze that fills
this darkened place
does little to camouflage
the weariness of life.
Old-time music beats
a familiar rhythm,
and once again she dances
with strangers who fail
to give her silence.
Copyright ©
Chetta Achara
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