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I’m sat on the front porch,
facing East,
staring at the sycamore;
Your morning coffee
is nestled in its armrest,
still and tepid,
its arom..
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(26-11-2016)
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Written Nov. 2015
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I will continue
To read the sages,
The nectar
They drizzled
Upon the pages;
Theirs is a honey
For the Ages
Stains for many,
Stilted and pain..
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https://www.facebook.com/maxwell.glen/posts/10155297179843710
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Nov. 4, 2017
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Nov. 3, 2017
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Your stare
Was more
Sinister
In the new moon;
I used your arms,
Held them
like reins
by the wrists
behind you;
I could just
Make out
The..
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Nov. 2, 2017
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Fall,
the season
for poetry
and
bingeing,
because
Man’s busy
mistaking
the dead trees
for Himself.
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