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Oct 2012
Our eyes tell us,
to remember
the strangest things,
like a religious wastebasket,
tucked into the arms
of a failing church.
We never see
the garishly painted thing
in the tiny sanctuary's
northeast wing,
until we bring it forth
in our mind
out of a necessity  
to throw away
a scrap of something
forgotten.
Written by
JH  United States
(United States)   
485
   Bailey Kreutzer
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