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Mar 2021
To wilting dandelions,
I ask the same old question every time,

"Tell me, when I grow old,
will my decayed hands work or shake too much?"


I hope I can climb trees,
and watch my scratched guitar weave through the pines:

High in the canopy,
gazing through branches at the one I love.

We play blue melodies
and feel blessed by the sun.
Camilla Green
Written by
Camilla Green  everywhere and nowhere
(everywhere and nowhere)   
139
   Bogdan Dragos
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