Poem: Gleaned

Left behind in a hurry; an artificial piece of history that serves no purpose other than to mark an ephemeral spectre in this place. I am that ghost, I think. I am that item which is not bound by feelings of nostalgia, such is the way of metaphoric erosion. By James A. Brightman

Left behind in a hurry; an artificial piece of history that serves no purpose other than to mark an ephemeral spectre in this place.

I am that ghost, I think.

I am that item which is not bound by feelings of nostalgia, such is the way of metaphoric erosion.

By James A. Brightman

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