Another Morning But He Wakes Up with a Different Hangover There is something about how the sound of surf, this morning,
reminds him of his Eve Ensler
each lapping displaces pages of memories,
of that summer afternoon
on their cottage by the hill
the summer she left like the windswept leaf that dances by his windowsill
for the first time in years, those memories
refuse to cling on his head like a hangover.
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Topic: balak (pOetry) :: a different hangover (Read 1414 times)