Pond, woodcut by Frederick Nunley
Used here with his kind permission






 

 

 

 

 

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Pip Wilson

 

 

 

 

This is the blog where I post poetry as I find it in the fishpond outside the door of my garden flat.

 

 

 

 



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Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Man, he's in pretty deep. "John, you really should sleep."
His wife, though she hasn't full knowledge,
can see something's troubling him, seething and bubbling --
in his sleep he's been mumbling -- but, let's face it, the doubling
of their pay will send Britney to college.

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