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Lunch Break

hunt
wears the front
campaign
pain
lunch hour

suspicion lurks
winter months
wearing your hat

it's time flown
with cigarettes
hanging still
on lips

wearing your
sheets
beats
bed hour
on the sunny days

herds of wildflowers
like posies
and blue buttercups

the music
can be too loud
as an excuse
remorse.

Author notes

High poetry

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