I greet the dawn,
the sun burns hot in the hollow.
The day aches on until
sleepless I meet the night,
sleepless I meet the night,
head hollowed like open empty
palms,
a begging bowl, a dead balloon, a
broken heart.
~*~
Biography: Robert Allen lives and loves with his family in northern California, where he writes poetry, takes long walks, and looks at birds. Details at www.robertallenpoet.com
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