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Jan 8
She walks past me,
Stares back in disgust,
Pulls something out of her pocket,
And bends right in front,
She appears to pick something,
Heaven knows what,
So, I push myself left,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

Its the path to the river,
And I need more water,
I walk back, for more,
This time, I meet sandals,
I recall cleaning them for Sandy,
But we no longer talk,
So I move right,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

I balance my *** back home,
Trees swaying slowly,
Silence as usual,
Only the cracking of my bones,
It's a part shared by two homesteads,
Not unusual, a bird chirps,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

The bird chirps more,
I bend to pick a stone,
But something's unusual,
A plain white sheet of paper,
With two stones above it,
So I pick a single stone,
And look above me,
The bird's beautiful,
Am carried away
Then suddenly, Sandy taps on my shoulder,
She holds the second stone,
And like nothing was happening,
WE make strides ahead.
Written by
Decra Kerubo  17/F/Kenya
(17/F/Kenya)   
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