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Click here Dawn gray in a mourning
wail -- the valley echoes
of procession, headlights
then silence following,
following, following the long
black, motorcycles roar past
motorcade ballet.
Pools, dark-tinted
mascara swirls in torrent,
tear-stained, wretched
moments of hopelessness,
music ebbs, then fades
to the reality, the chill,
as the eyes remain closed.
you are skilled with internal rhyme and repeated sounds, makes your poem flow so smoothly, pulls the reader along... very nice...
~anna