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The Concrete Poet
Poems
Apr 2019
Easter morning 2015
Index finger laying across tightly pressed lips as I drive down the Boulevard.
I watch the fluffy cotton fall down to the earth.
Snow globe picturesque we are shaken once more.
No complaints from me I mumble to myself.
Once again my eyes, my heart and my soul are afforded life's beauty.
Written by
The Concrete Poet
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