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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems permission to use
provided by the author. |
Heather has been lately in a
funk,
Even when I tell her of my love.
As though my words were wind against a door,
They cannot stir her heart to relish more,
Held back by a darkness none can move.
Each day my will goes down to where she's sunk,
Resting with her off our western shore. |