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Poem 20150909

Posted on September 9, 2015September 10, 2015 by crow

in the pressing of wine
–a drink for forgetting–
and olive oil
–a balm for old wounds–
the angels’ hands
turn wheels
their feet stain
purple-blue
not with grapes

regret
despair
and unanswered prayer

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Posted in PoemsTagged angels, creative writing, despair, poem, poetry, regret, writing

Published by crow

I'm a writer and a dabbler. I live in Washington. View all posts by crow

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