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Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Winter
(for John Nightingale)

by Terrence Sykes

In my garden of regret
seeds of forgotten sorrow
cast with damp ashes
silence already muted spirits

No need to gather
harvest that again
since weeds & crops
now yellowed & strawed

Glazed with frost
contentment & burdens
death & resurrection
indistinguishable

1 comment:

Unknown said...

A double meaning poem written in an insightful and deeply intuitive manner. Well penned, enjoyed the read.

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