Poem: clouds

gun shot gray clouds
disturb
thinsilvercrescent
hanging mountains
scraggly pines go     ing
cold on my walk-around
black
like smoke
the red collie pulls
of a Parisian winter
the gray Seine
chill

or silver/gray teargas shells by a Wall
into the brush
in Nabi Saleh
where are the jews
of the thirties
or the three year olds
gunshot gray
from Syria
beyond any

border?

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