the final curtain call
listen carefully my love
for I shall be whispering
the words that vibrate
through the air
shaped by the moon
& the crow
& the trees standing
tall on the boulevard
do not grieve my love
when the moon
loses its mystery
or the crow delivers
its last waltz
or the trees standing
tall on the boulevard
take their final bow
september two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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