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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Abigail waits upon the
morning,
Blessed to make it through another night.
Interred within the bones of her desire,
Granted still the grace of inner fire,
Are shattered remnants of the first pure
light,
Intense as at the pith of nature's burning,
Livid in the ashes of her yearning. |
