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Clump of pages


 
He missed a chapter in his book,
Like he missed the time before he took,
A lapse in time,
When eye lids shut;
In comfort ages,
That clump of pages.
Missing sand in seaside places,
And falling rain on sun burnt faces.
Eye lids open,
But nearly shut,
Back he turned,
In his clump of pages.
By John Fox
 

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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