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Tuesday, January 22, 2013

In this Together

Families By The Wisconsin River
"Playing in the dirt
we were forming
a new language, a new
religion – new lives."
The circle scratched
in the sand was to
show her who I am.

She bent down and
added eyes and
a smile; I
misunderstood.

Playing in the dirt
we were forming
a new language, a new
religion – new lives.

Soon there was a real
little person: real eyes,
real smile – real frown,
real tears.

The circle traced
in the flour was to
be playful, endearing.

She scrapes away half,
leaving the rest; I
now understood.
------

The Collected Chaff, v. 1.0    

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