Poem Hunter
TD (27/8/57 / new york)


The sparkle in the lough
has dulled, its luminous water
now mud green speckle,

Trudging up yesterdays effortless path,
I pace this landscape
alone as I used to.

Once majestic reeds
convert to
choking weeds.

An empty space replaces you
in this life long version
of music-less chairs.

Again it's one shadow cast
and paling
in the waning sun.

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