Sifting through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
Ground Control
Late spring chill. Pale faces in dark clothes and they will not look you in the eyes. You had forgotten. Lilacs are in full bloom, tomorrow they say it will be sun.
You may walk right next to their carefully manicured lives, but you are miles and miles away. There is no home for you here.
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