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All souls? by Ian Emberson White lines which cross the sky - all contradictions; strange birds with blackened wings add no serenity; this skull is it a skull ? - or merely fancy ? - these figures human creatures or soulless souls ? This was a church where anthems once touched on the rafters; Mary and Martha Harry and Hubert - all flocked here; now its remorseless walls bring little comfort; and the tall tall spire points at a Godless sky. © Ian Emberson « Home | Contributor Notes » Please comment on this poem. |
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