Nessun Dorma (none shall sleep)
¶ 1
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Before the cock crowed
they sat you down
for one last supper,
¶ 2
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I’d followed every feint
and weave across
a Formica television stand,
peerless on luminous grass.
¶ 3
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What sweet betrayal it was…
that sting of yellow,
¶ 4
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those sobs,
those broken-hearted sobs –
a lion in the night.
A fine poem, much appreciated.