PUBLISHED POETRY by Anne Selden Annab
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Contents by Anne Selden Annab
Contents
The blue Wedgewood bowl
sits up high in its place,
as figures from an urn turn,
frozen on its face.
The blue Wedgewood bowl,
round like a ring;
I spin it slowly, and listen
for the white shadows to sing.
1997 Yesterday's Magazette
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