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Breadcrumb #166

September 23, 2016 by Bob Raymonda

CLAUDINE NASH

Still I summon

that single moment

when you stood before me

and spoke a dialect

of silence

that had no such word

as never,

when you stared me

straight on

as the morning burst

around us,

and I swore

I heard the sound

of light.

• • •

September 23, 2016 /Bob Raymonda
poetry, verse, blog, breadcrumb
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