The Fractured Pear
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Nair-do-well
You are never cured
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SOME SORROW
On cindered knees
I rise to ask
one more sorrow
to remove. The smell
that porcelein time
rimes on the task
-
encrusted tome
I have become.
.
Photo Credit: Ann Flower, "White on Black Flat Coated Labrador" 2010