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Posted by MFish Profile 02/17/18 at 11:06PM Poetry See more by MFish

All twilight people are coming forth,
to make their presence known.
Arriving by the evening breeze,
tossed and turning, they have flown
to be present for the witching hour.
They dance lightly, in the air,
rhythmically jerking by hidden string
as transistors, in their voice box,
causes them to sing,
a mournful ditty.

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