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The City Shadowed
This poem is about growing old.
The City Shadowed
I cannot remember my name. And
where I came from. Or when I came here.
I am not from this place, this city, and
its silent people, its pale-vaulted sky,
its black shadow silhouettes
flickering lightly across blank walls.
Here the bar staff talk in lilting Irish
cadences, and look straight through you
as ...
Thursday 16th February 2017 5:39 am
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