The Seagull’s Harmonica by D.C. Houston

On this walk, as with all days,I move,until the moon,usurps the sun.The songs of life ongoing,do their best, to fill the barren space,you once occupied.Is it hubris,to say, you are the best there ever was.Daydreams of our eleventh hour,what I could have articulated, differently.How life could change so irrevocably in your absence.Why the sun burns…

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