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Patio 95 (Free verse) by ecargo

As it runs through its repertoire, that flashing mimic bird moving from hit to hit smoothly, counterpoint the trees talk of storms rolling in from the dark west, the black locusts swaying, heavy and hushed and these hours of ease (unease) come undone, and even I-95's sullen roar sounds like wind rising like a sea.

amanda_dcosta 1-Jul-06/3:47 AM
e-cargo... where have you been? I missed seeing you on PR. Good to see you around here now.... so howz life been and what's new other than this poem.




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