The HemingwayA Poem by willmjspencerOld man, drunk, by the sea. He was where it’s at. Now an anachronism, Ringing its historical toll; A bull, silent, waiting to fight, Looking out of place. Charges. Fighting for a win on his own terms. Shotgun ending. © 2018 willmjspencer |
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1 Review Added on January 15, 2018 Last Updated on January 15, 2018 |

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