Poetry
A Feather in the Sun
I no longer hear the footsteps of a stranger from up the street out for a morning weekend walk with a growing little gleeful dog;
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I no longer hear the footsteps of a stranger from up the street out for a morning weekend walk with a growing little gleeful dog;
My heart is forever young A divine hymn to be sung I love everyone and always forgive As twice as I take, I always give
We step onto the roof in anticipation. Just the two of us and a bottle of wine, a cool summer breeze caressing our faces. “What
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