Pink Shadows by Theale

November is popping.
Memory of toffee sticks
in the recess of a tooth.
Decay too, is in the air.
The sweetness of rot
hangs nostalgic on golden evenings.
My one wet foot
reluctantly trudges
into the diminishing year.

All profits go to Medical Aid for Palestine

Currently working on a series of works for piano

All profits to go to charity

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