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Wednesday, November 15, 2006 |
You will check in on me parent friend co-worker caregiver mentor poet writer mystic reader discern the traces I've been here less frequently like the trail of clouds residue of night when dawn hands over its shift to mid-day don't mean to keep you waiting never intended such tardiness the dog ate my life and there is no sense to be made of what's left left over from an injured back long office days back to the specialist's for another shot in the back to continue walking my way into a slow jog or long run that is all I have been praying hope written on air but the pull of the moon continues to be the pull in my hip every left step march march march of life keeps all of the street lights illuminated green the sun rising east of pain and the moon sleeping in the narcotic of my dreams
8:08:04 PM | |
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