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City Unborn



 

City Unborn

 

 

Out

on the sidewalk fringe

gulls converse in hostile tones.

 

Church doors open,

taking in all who care

to milk their withered souls.

 

Construction in the distance.

Towels hanging from clotheslines.

 

A dead pigeon lies

crushed on the road,

 

ignored

like the blazing buttercups

and love.

 

  

Allison Grayhurst

  

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