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Here on this plain
where my footprints leave
outlines of past travels
and predict forecasts of coming attractions,
I change directions...

I head towards the horizon,
a straight line along this
wayward life,
that imaginary boundary between
then and now,
one foot after the other
seeking...

a different path’s calling,
beckoning my stride,
leading where
shadows disperse and
sunlight fulfills promises
of all that this
life, our destiny has to
offer...
All around the world
The day comes of deep colours
To rehearse things
That are really trueful.

I care about cradle of clouds
Above my head
Black beetles to show oppression
Into their words
When I am my everything, my friend.

Celebration of friendship on the road
Happy whether they help or not
As the sky give an reflection as pure
Then I will have a day of everything.

                         By K-mari ©2016
I write about this poem about what feelings I has today when my teacher saying something about herself trueful.
You reach out to me
When you have nobody around you
You look at me like I was more galaxy than just a girl
Once you find your beloved ones
I become useless
And You call it love!
Well, I call it hell
If only we can switch our feelings for a while
For the Chipmunk in My Yard
By Robert Gibb
I think he knows I’m alive, having come down
The three steps of the back porch
And given me a good once over. All afternoon
He’s been moving back and forth,
Gathering odd bits of walnut shells and twigs,
While all about him the great fields tumble
To the blades of the thresher. He’s lucky
To be where he is, wild with all that happens.
He’s lucky he’s not one of the shadows
Living in the blond heart of the wheat.
This autumn when trees bolt, dark with the fires
Of starlight, he’ll curl among their roots,
Wanting nothing but the slow burn of matter
On which he fastens like a small, brown flame.

From What the Heart Can Bear by Robert Gibb. Poem copyright ©2009 by Robert Gibb. Reprinted by permission of the author and Autumn House Press.
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Which doobie hits? Forgot your lesson, Steve?
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