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Nov 2015
draped in sunlight she moved
with soft arm and solemn face
as i sat in the shadow
leaves and dirt in hand
examining her bare freckled shoulders
as she laughed at the mud on my face
and she'd read to me in harmonies
and she'd sing to me from the pages
and she'd laugh like it was something
beautiful
and she'd promise me she was a calendar:
everyday
sometimes you see that people are there but you know that they're gone
CE Thompson
Written by
CE Thompson  United States
(United States)   
462
 
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