by Clyde L. Borg
Ere the dawn
An equine neighs,
An awkward bird
Strikes a pane,
A cock crows,
And a leafless tree
Succumbs and falls,
All foretokens of death.
Showing posts with label Clyde L. Borg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clyde L. Borg. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
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