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Immured by grief,Each sad new death,The walls accreteAnd kill the breathOf everyone.And each new blowDeadens the drumAnd weakens the ‘No!’
Such grief, not bid,Thickened the wallUntil we didNot feel at all.DesensitizedWe retreat from
Life and are prised
From old freedom.
© RM MeyerWinswell Water, July 2020