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Oct 2019
The stars look down with promise, those distant points
of fire, conjuring what ifs.
I ponder the alternate realities, the maybes that might exist.
Perhaps the answers lie just beyond the pane on which patterns
can be traced.
Figures emerge from the wall, a horse, a giant, a forgotten face of
past or future love.
And elevator music is the radio background as I am lost in
daydreams, wishing to hold someone in my arms,
not for love but for humanity.
Bill Johnston
Written by
Bill Johnston  75/M/Hutchinson, Ks
(75/M/Hutchinson, Ks)   
124
   Monika Layke
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