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| Topic: Sheila's Dad | |
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Edited by
rapsscallion
on
Tue 08/19/14 01:20 PM
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Sheila'��s Dad
I'��m here he whispers And I feel a butterfly touch against my skin His cobwebbed hat hangs forgotten on the wall Decaying boots expectant by the door Spade and hoe tumbled by the chair Through the handkerchief panes I glimpse The memory of my father Taking one last stroll around his beloved garden R |
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