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Poems – Joop Bersee

Queueing up In a queue outside the museum, covered by our century, waiting to see what he saw with his brushes. Once inside, a flood of people block my view, sand in his eyes. The paintings are frozen solid on

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Poems by Joop Bersee

In memory of my late father (1921-2013) Black shape You disappear into the forest. It is getting dark. You slowly move forward. I stay behind. You become like a toy. You are no longer there to say yes or no.

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