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Sonja Benskin Mesher
Poems
Sep 2018
.september comes.
pressure goes, is gone with the news that
my legs are ever brown
that
the trees have changed by the maentwrog
bend
that my voice no longer is
streaming through my head
between my ears sounding
like lead
and while all this has settled
tuck in and sleep a while
the pressure diminishes
september rises
all was well yesterday
Written by
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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