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DEDICATED WITH GRATITUDE TO MY MENTOR, DAWN

I saw you through the broken glass
that sliced last fragments of your life
and parked your days on Dead Man's Pass.
I saw you through the broken glass.
Your blood on road. Your blood on grass.
Each red grass blade like some sharp knife.
I saw you through the broken glass
that sliced last fragments of your life.

Glenn Bagshaw

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-the-scene-triolet/