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Haucham Hill

by Wayne Tate

I’ve learned every cadence,
every refrain that this worn-out violin
could ever hope to squeak out.

The song doesn’t move me anymore.

p.s. The band played to your memory.
A memory that passed 3 minutes ago
between Haucham Hill and Goshen Rd.

07/04/2011

Posted on 07/04/2011
Copyright © 2019 Wayne Tate

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 07/04/11 at 09:37 PM

Lovely and just a bit heartbreaking.

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