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Brew

Writer's picture: glenhaneyglenhaney

We were to meet in that little street

Nex to the French Bakery.

She preferred croissants and coffee.

I ordered for her and sat watching

Wisps of smoke escape

her brew

As it shifted,

Drifted and was lost,

Much like their love,

Drifting to

Naught.

“Same time same place tomorrow?”




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©2021 by Glen Haney.

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