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Post-it Note Poetry #17

A tap drips a rhythmic drop
Into the silent house.
Ripples echo outside –
A dog’s bark.
A muted shout,
The distant hum of traffic.
Dislocated sounds
Of life
Beyond these walls.
In the house a tap drips.
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About Hawksword

Reluctant writer, word dabbler...tea maker, coffee drinker, rum imbiber, chocolate eater.

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