the smell
of bruised apples
simmering
in the summer heat...
a blood stain on her shirt
Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine
Reading More and Writing Better: Cocked Rifle Tanka
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*life is so good*
*why am I dying for this?*
on the hilltop
of the West Bank settlement
he mutters with a cocked rifle
Note: Ls 1&2 allude to the existen...
