image borrowed from deviant art
Seek Wet Agent
Listen…beyond the beading rain,
above the uncertain Asian breeze,
your trained voice is choking.
Born in franked freedom,
now trapped between the heart
and cold cyphered signals.
See…beyond the cold trail,
at the wake of dead letterboxes,
the searching eyes of old friends.
Martin T. Hodges
Posted over on his site Square Sunshine
Listed as #36 over on Magpie Tales 80
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