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Copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
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Ninety-nine enjoys a bit of sun, Installed upon the terrace in her chair. Nestled in her heavy woolen coat, Extra-heavy scarf tucked round her throat, The tiny figure relishes the air, Yielding to a moment come undone.
Now she cannot feel the current run; Inside, the heart holds still, just barely there. Nothingness and being become one Even as the end remains remote.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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