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Donna
Nov 24, 2015
There is an emptiness growing in the night. It’s the sadness of instant nostalgia. Or maybe that’s the wine. The storm just ended and already, I miss the sound of the raindrops. Life is so fleeting. Yet, this persistent passing of time lends beauty its value. Thankfully, nothing lasts.
Mama, There’s A White Man At My Window!
Zaron Burnett III
593

So very finely crafted throughout, and this passage… superb!

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    Donna