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Dropping the Paisley
What more can I say?
This beautiful woman
lived in my house
and now she is gone,
sailing or flying,
swimming or walking.
I don't know where.
So please,
tell the woman
I live with now
it's time again
to dropp the paisley
over the parakeet.
I'll be upstairs,
tell her,
getting ready for bed.
poem
by
Donal Mahoney
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