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813.
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Picture Poem #128 (From, This is my Wasteland)
Bursting buds
of April's blossom
from purple to white
cameo yellow and brown
spring's loveliness
into May's caress
Peter S. Quinn
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814.
|
Picture Poem #146 (From, This is my Wasteland)
Interfere run
a floating time
for anything
changes beyond
their in and out
clouds of harmony
Peter S. Quinn
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815.
|
Picture Poem #148 (From, This is my Wasteland)
Feelings of soft
waking in sleep stillness
over twisted now
through fingers
of dark strands
emptying together
time's ashes
Peter S. Quinn
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816.
|
Picture Poem #152 (From, This is my Wasteland)
Poets philosophers
with ways of the heart
desiring
first spring voices
everything feels soft
and found in green
Peter S. Quinn
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