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The summer we Were Made to Grow Up
July 14, 2014
The notes rise and fall
We danced by the lighthouse
As if the nights would last forever
The music slows
Notes stretched out like putty
Silent holes consuming sound
An auditory cancer
Until I fall in your arms exhausted
And the last quivering note drops from the sky- like a seagull laden with buckshot.
© Steve S., Marblehead, MA
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