This poem is taken from Stand 223, 17(3) September - November 2019.
Two Poems
Lamp
There seems no point opening the blinds
when night won’t leave morning. He stirs
his mug of tea, stares at the flurries
drawn to the centre. It’s then he realises
...
There seems no point opening the blinds
when night won’t leave morning. He stirs
his mug of tea, stares at the flurries
drawn to the centre. It’s then he realises
...
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