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J O H N S T O N E W R I T E R S G R O U P |
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FOUR POEMS by Sarah Scott WOUND I learned of it later much later after you were gone and I opened one of your books in the store casually and found littered carelessly, thoughtlessly, in the pages stolen fragments of myself. IMMORTAL Fighting the drone of attempted education A languid finger traces the names Of those who have passed before And sought to immortalise themselves in wood. Meangingless now, I wonder who they were As I idly add myself to their ranks.SWEEP Time measured in five-minute intervals That last for years. Each sweep of the second hand Subdues my spirit Dulls my mind Bleeds my soul.AFTER THE FUNERAL Dust dances across the floor As you walk in. Books, boxes, chairs, Piled in forgotten heaps. This is where she lived And died. The woman you never knew. Were you hoping to find some clue here? Do you think you can know her from what she left behind? Or are you simply searching for yourself? |