With something drifting and something shifting, the earth still held the sky.
I felt like writing a poem
In the middle of the night
The ideas came scrambling
But soon after, took flight.
A molting nomad came along
In time and delayed
It flit about and went away
Yet gave me words that stayed.
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A slow, slow Monday! And a long, long one! We got done and things are moving along. This is exhausting but. The wait is exhausting. I want t...
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