Poem 351 – Halt

Halt.
Hear that?
What is it?
A mystery.
Will we ever see?
Maybe, maybe not
But it is gone.
The sound went.
Goodbye.
Go.

***

Dear readers,

This looked better hand-written, when all of the lines formed the shape suggested by their syllable-length. Alas, I must type them up.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic

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