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Evan Stephens
Poems
Jan 2021
A Light Snow
Flurries fall to green varnish,
grass-toothed jaw. By the time
coffee is ready, their lives
have waned down to water.
You say the same thing will happen
in Dublin tomorrow: Iveagh flake
mounting the park bench,
then deleted by the ineffable air.
Written by
Evan Stephens
45/M/DC
(45/M/DC)
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Evan Stephens
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