Posts
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My Front Yard
I would
get up and
run
out to the yard,
would dance with trees
running up to grab its
leaves
and spin in my
pink skirt,
I would pretend
I was a princess
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The Song of the Hills
The trees
lightly dance in the
cold
winter air,
the birds sing a song
like a choir the sound
echoes on tops of hills
enlightening the day,
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Loves
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An Alarming Argument
"How could you say that?"
"The real question is, how could you disagree?"
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The Sorcerer's Shadow
I find myself retelling this story in the quiet of the night, blanketed by darkness. I know I shouldn’t be able to, but somehow the days come back to me in bits and pieces.
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