Open Poetry #41 |
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The Easy Tavern |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
The easy tavern With rafts of beer Being towed into The lines of mugs The lines that tug, Run under the taverns cabin Full of each capered pocket With rocks confiding Into one another As they lay whispers To the rocks That leaves homes Across the nested lake. His neck, long like The bristled brews leaning Against his wool, shielded coat, Long like two fingers that Pace his black, sin hair, With a peak below his eyes Below his side To the distance night. |
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© Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Artic Wind Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080Realm of Supernatural |
Good read ARCTIC WIND |
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