Over London Town

March 8, 2010
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the Golden Wings
dared to stop and stare,
it was a soft crash
back to reality;
all delusions of grandeur
were gone

at window-frame
the web drew thin
and frosted

smoke o o z e d
from their homes
the tall stacks above
their streets

the haze of
Winter is weary,
And the robin
Flies away
From their fires

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