Untitled
Inconsolable,
my land is
a vanishing
dream;
the lumber
night
breathes
a whisper into
my ears.
You cannot
go back,
they have left,
wind and dust blow
through
empty rooms,
the slamming
of a shutter
tells of unstoppable
silence
AucklandPoetry.com presents Poet Resident JAN OSKAR HANSEN on http://OSKAR.AUCKLANDPOETRY.COM
Monday, May 14, 2007
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