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Wednesday 10 January 2018

BBB Poem 60

Black is the colour of the day
Black is the colour of mourning
Slow is the long walk of the day
Slow is the certainty now dormant

Severe, and serene, and in between
The sounds of walking sticks and shuffled feet
Seek out, whatever it is you must seek out
Among these mild, and meek ways, to torment


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