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Cinshine
62/F
I think this night in lieu of sleep I’ll lay awake and listen to the rhythm of the trip hammer … it’s all about that bass … because the knife maker can’t sleep either It’s unfortunate that in just a few hours I have to be on my game the rest of the day but fortunate that I will be with people familiar with the rules of the game that I have to be on after a sleepless night Don’t leave me alone with a lot of numbers to keep track of or any paperwork to keep in order but feel free to note that my tag is sticking out probably because my shirt is on backwards …. I’ll say something like ‘I wondered where those buttons went’
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Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 4:06 AM UTC
Don’t count on me for any serious purpose...
nightwatch moon shadows toss moon tides turn what time is it nightwatch flip the pillow tuck it here tuck it there nightwatch creep quietly to the couch to read until night sounds conjur a mystery . . . images fade welcome the dream dogs barks why do we have dogs check the nightwatch daybreak sigh what compells the day so quickly when there has only been a nightwatch
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 12:54 PM UTC
Nightwatch
I find that I am afraid yet you're the one who's flying. The empty nest? A cavern. No clue what to think; what to do. How does one proceed? What's the point of crying or trying to hold a heart that's flown . . . And that's the trouble; your heart, my heart, all the same if the truth is known. But you're the one with wings and you scare me with your fledgling flight. I will be ok, but right now, I am afraid of your height.
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 7:39 PM UTC
Empty Nest
Autumn, without Summer's knowledge or consent Early this morning, under cover of fog, went out tinting some flora; whispering, "Hurry!" to fauna, For days of steaming in Summer's sauna Are passing quickly, and Autumn's sweet brush of chill Foretells piquant Fall colors and the need to fill Pantries and jars and underground spaces and caches with bounty from various places. We're grateful this day for windows flung wide And the cozy sweater for which we sighed, For simmering cider and pumpkin displays, All thanks to the Father who shortens the days. And Autumn, if Summer catches hold of your sash As you run toward the equinox in your mad dash Just slip off your apron. That's what I would do If I were the one racing toward 9/22.
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 7:31 PM UTC
Autumn's Toe is in the Door