Two Poems

This is where we say goodbye.The long hospital corridor.The nil-by-mouth. This is where it ends.The airport, doorstep, doctor’s waiting room,the recruitment interview;the passing out parade. Going, going, gone, the clocks repeat,already imagining a distance. This is wheresomething stays shut inside.This is where. My father saysthat one day soonhe will go for the long sleep.He’s eighty...
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