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Mar 2011
I look for you, and you're not there.

Your words that flowed like fresh water,
cool, crisp, refreshing...absent;

only a trickle of memory
seeps through the rocks.

The laughter's gone.
The creek bed dry.
Just a single tear...
running down my cheek.
revised 4/20/13
Written by
K M Krueger
1.3k
   --- and Abigail Ramirez
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