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Macleod Black, David: The Telephone

Portre of Macleod Black, David

The Telephone (English)

One afternoon of wind and sun
I heard from on my pierced throne
Above the tumult of the trees
The screaming of the telephone.

And though love's bitter-sweet had all
Come back I neither thought nor made
A slightest motion; till the long
Enquiring scream went still and dead.



Uploaded byRépás Norbert
PublisherPublished by True Books (5 Kensington Church Walk London, W8), Printed by Villers Publications Ltd. (Ingestre Road, London, NW5)
Source of the quotationA Dozen Short Poems by D.M.Black
Bookpage (from–to)11-11
Publication date

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