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When the Music Stops

by James Robert Rudolph

A resting face on a grey afternoon
a tired party favor,
paper whistle lost its curl
lying limp, unfurled,
old snail give-out.

A dull finish
captures no light,
a blunted, make-do life,
brilliant scraps heap like
quilting squares unused,
verging on molder.
A sunless fade.


Copyright © 2020 by James Robert Rudolph

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