he stoops
at the headof the glen
he stoops
he stooks
he scythes
he sighs
the hay
the way
his father
did and
he before
before did
stand
against the hill
a man
never to be
broken
he sees
a world
that long
since gone
had carried
hope before
him
Poetry by Peter Humphreys

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Written on 2007-07-26 at 18:56




Mark J. Wood |
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