deepundergroundpoetry.com
Scattered
Flower petals in the wind.
August hurricanes swept through
and scattered us.
The world is tiny
from here and you
have been gone so long
over a blue horizon that
I know
we will not collide again.
But summer hills in England,
eons ago, we came from
the same flowerbeds
listening to footballs in the street
and there is where you remain
despite the August hurricane.
August hurricanes swept through
and scattered us.
The world is tiny
from here and you
have been gone so long
over a blue horizon that
I know
we will not collide again.
But summer hills in England,
eons ago, we came from
the same flowerbeds
listening to footballs in the street
and there is where you remain
despite the August hurricane.
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