orgami's Diaryland Diary

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yards of yes

the fragrance of yesterday
still potent on my sleeve
the day like dust on the
window sill

I can remember your voice
falling down the hall
your steps down the stairs

now there is sunshine
and maybe rain
and always the pain
settled like silt
and when the river is low
I can write notes
with a stick

nothing is apparent
nor permanent
and we are
all involved

we all have voices
hearts
and minds

souls

2:39 p.m. - 2011-05-10

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