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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Janice is alone in her
confusion,
A bit of batter broken off from Being.
Nor does she quite believe what she is
seeing,
Immersed in what appears to be illusion.
Come, Janice, to the ocean of your soul,
Every drop of which contains the whole. |
