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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 60

DIARY X

I kept the sunshine in my back pocket,
which she pruned with her eyelids' trim.
Though all smiles – I could not talk to her.
I kept the sunshine in my back pocket,
Every smile partitioned out like a piano key,
The prince of sundials, has now retired.
I kept the sunshine in my back pocket,
which she pruned with her eyelids' trim.


  Michael T. Smith