Warm sun, quiet air
an old man sits
in the doorway of
a broken house–
boards for windows
plaster falling
from between the stones
and strokes the head
of a spotted dog
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Election Day
Poem
Warm sun, quiet air
an old man sits
in the doorway of
a broken house–
boards for windows
plaster falling
from between the stones
and strokes the head
of a spotted dog
