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AuthorNiamh Hollis-Locke

Author Archive: Niamh Hollis-Locke

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August 7, 2017

Here in sunset city The streetlamps flicker on In sickly saffron grid-lines, marching Out across the plains, While headlamps pulse Down darkening streets In liquid floods of light. In sunset city, Cicadas clatter like Loose screws In empty lots, where Weeds, persistent as grief, Push between the cracks In memory.