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Month 3:12


Gray rain on this highway gradient

from which I can hardly see Grimm’s

of Troy or the graying river, its queued gallons

in slow procession to some graven grave.

 
 

by Therese L. Broderick

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

One response »

  1. Grayed/grade/graved…I love the sound play in this one.

    Like

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