Augenblick
From the prison of the body
I looked into the night
And saw beyond the withered trees,
Frost coated in the icy breeze,
A distant window romanesque,
Whose glass sun-melted was
translucent gold;
Voluminous and very old
The voice which called me in.
ewpomacpherson@googlemail.com
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Ewan
MacPherson
Wells
Somerset UK
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