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Saturday, October 1, 2016

Guess What

Against the cracked asphalt
of the parking lot,
it's raining
with a persistence
much like the chatter
of a three-year-old child
pulling at sleeves, impatient
to have us grown-ups
guess what.

Something Else

I cherish the sparrow in a world of traffic. I applaud cloisters and quiet wisdom. I prize the frail light of six in the morning. I...