Thursday, November 19, 2015

Poem: clouds



gun shot gray clouds

disturb

thinsilvercrescent

hanging mountains

scraggly pines go     ing

cold on my walk-around


black


like smoke

the red collie pulls


of a Parisian winter

the gray Seine

chill


or silver/gray teargas shells by a Wall


into the brush

in Nabi Saleh


where are the jews

of the thirties


or the three year olds


gunshot gray

from Syria


beyond any



border?

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