Bruce Jewett

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across my cold quilt
a street lamp and moonlight
play shadow games

~~

gravestones with speakers
a tattered and torn screen
ruins of a drive-in

~~

thought I heard a bee
it was the tabby snoring
not even spring yet

~~

rained-on stone buddha
are you any the wiser
sitting in the mud

~~

dark and secluded
forest embraces the lost
never lets them go

~~~

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