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Holy Day

by Anna Varney-Wong   mom is watching the rain drops dropping counting her days on her counter 1st this way then that watching the passing train rat-a-tat-tat-tat rat-a-tat-tat-tat a lit window, a lit window window, window, window rat-a-tat-tat-tat rat-a-tat-tat-tat a

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Raw poem

by Anna Varney-Wong   The sweet melancholy Whispers from distant childhood as I walk in the soft rain. Beautiful pristine Cape Town You are in fact built on the grave yard of forced removals. One can feel the vacancy in

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Posted in Poetry