Jack Campbell

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Walking Down Queen Anne

Any minute it'll start
spitting rain.
Black cloud over the head
drifting accursed ghost wreck.

Street lights flare in misty haze
haloed and strange.
Footsteps muffled
grey concrete sidewalk.

Buses blur the lines
crossing over
Renton way.
Blue car honks
and flies the bird
for no damned reason known.

All alone, walking
Queen Anne way.

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