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Feb 2015
Glorious dots swirl above our heads like millions of
glowing bees as we spin arms outstretched.

The air is warm while the earth is cool beneath bare feet
And a light mist rises among the pecan orchard trees.

I want to keep this place living in our minds.  We can
Never grow old in this childish embrace of memory.
S R Mats
Written by
S R Mats  F/Houston, TX
(F/Houston, TX)   
413
   Mike Jewett
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