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Starting a new series of poems, Hours. here's the first one, 5 a.m.


5 a.m.

Within one hour the sun will

open the eyes of the sky and

feel more tired than not until

the news brews cups of strong

minutes in the room where we

held back time first smoke

and keeping up with screens

within one hour the day will

develop its picture for the whole

town to see raised and rising

everyone will recycle their sleep

into crushed promises that today

will be different.

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