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Michael Sean Maloney
Poems
Apr 17
these last leaves
these last leaves
fall like coins
from a hole
in god’s pocket
this morning
the sun stood
through the mists
of the city
life vibrates
with colors
with roots
that touch
and tap
we skim the surface we quickly move on we miss the point
what is so unrecognizable
about happiness?
what is so impossible
about love?
Written by
Michael Sean Maloney
60/M/Japan
(60/M/Japan)
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