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Posted by on Apr 27, 2020 in Fiction, Poetry | 0 comments

CROWDS

CROWDS

How easily their hands went in the air
In the town we thought they were waving
At first a few rolled to the sand
Like beach bathers stunned in the waves
Recumbent they cheered their distractors on
I drew happy faces on faces with o mouths

When I was surprised or sad
Evening came and the lamps
Cast dim blue shadows on the shatter lands
Then many waved and thrust their palms up
Thinking they were strong

Some defied the dim blue shadows
And lit cigars in cupped hands
Their faces were angry and red puffing the coals
They wrote books in dead languages
And then the parades began

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