please don’t

a barn collapses

leaving only a harsh wind

same winds as before

beyond diminished

 

but wait

how fair is this to the writer

he who pored through mind’s memories

with empty writing instrument

gut-ink pouring from heart

 

would he have said it differently

more eloquently to your faces

i think not

 

 

by mary ann blinkhorn

 

 

 

 

 

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