PS

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group


PS

With an echo of silence as I scribble
as dark watches over my shoulder
in condensation of cold breath
but meaning no ill will
for death is awaiting until I PS
with one last shiver in the windowpane
as my widow awaits my melting wax
sealing my of old rhymes and times
that bound us together for fifty years


Submitted: July 12, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Atticus Abbey. All rights reserved.

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