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Poetry By Brian Sheffield

if you haven’t noticed i’m plagiarizing By Brian Sheffield When the last poem is ever written there will be a tempest of leaves falling away from the giggling face of a hoary ash tree in the front yard. The sun will be angled in the sky like the lure of a deep sea fish; and though there will be no teeth, there will be lights, a crash, and then a mother bending somewhere to pick up broken shards with a torn rag she intended to throw away three months ago. As a given hand — shaking either in gawking old … Continue reading Poetry By Brian Sheffield