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when the words don’t matter
Sitting by the shoreline, the water fairly calm, a sharp breeze enough to suggest only the time of year. watching seagulls swift past the eery history of the mast wondering just when waters would ever tell me a secret. I could listen for hours while the sun began to dance along soft waves…
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When the Shutters Close
We live in normal houses in Midwestern America we are a concentrated, suburban, legacy long after we are gone our worlds will be memory. Lives have been led along facades, frames, fades. We need to recognize in a word, life isn’t what it seems. When I look at you across the avenue I debate…