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Degradations
The putty on the antique frame
Is crumbling in my dreams;
The richly patterned tablecloth
Comes free at all its seams.
The neatly-tended flowerbed
Turns wild and overgrown;
Once-pristine grassy spreads of lawn
Are patchy and unmown.
The wondrous spectrum of our world,
Its subtle, shifting slants,
Gives way to cheapskate slogans
And simple-minded chan...
Saturday 14th December 2024 8:37 am
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