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Page 24

  • CAZ
  • Jul 13, 2017
  • 1 min read

The End of November

As we near the end of November,

I gaze from a fifth floor window

Downwards at the frigid and eager

Students awaiting their tardy buses

So much hope, it would seem

But a month ago I could have seen

Awake and alone at two in the morn

I try Sudoku and NyQuil, chasing a sleep so warm

And so, a project begins

Through love and through boredom

I see these people living

From stumble to trip, and trip to fall

As we near the end of November

I sit alone, with my back to the door

Hoping that no one will knock or call

Yet sitting and waiting for anyone at all


 
 
 

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