Searching

Back and forth, to and fro, left and right. My life had become nothing more than dancing around delicate memories of the past. I looked at what I was working on at the moment. I couldn’t tell what it was yet, but it might have been the…
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The Sitting Tree

In the waning days of January. A most distinguished group of three Sat at a table beneath a tree And discussed it all in every degree. Asked the first to the three, “Can you not see, That this simple tree Writes such poetry,…
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