I was sitting on the porch yesterday as a tiny leaf scraped along the otherwise deserted and cold street. Pushed rudely by the wind through the gritty silence, its racket was throwing colourful thought into my empty mind.
fresh.
Friday, October 12, 2007
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3 comments:
you're speaking my language.
ahhh. you're so good at writing. don't let anybody ever tell you different.
Very nicely said!
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