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by Tanner

haunts locale

2008/11/15 in poems

haunts locale
by tanner brockwell

haunts locale
the wiss of the speeding wheel
slishing past
windows paint and chrome
the sound of welcome
the sound of home
busy as you want to
or stop in the streetlight cast
at 2am far
and wonder if there is another star
glints and true
they are past horizon
way overdue
and winking gleeful
they assume that throne
the past is starried
a star from home


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