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Thursday, June 23, 2011

Walking in Downtown

For a moment, the drooping yellow-singed trees smelled like a shelter of wet dogs.

***

such urgency...
cicada songs pulse
with each passing ambulance

***

clammy thoughts cling to my skin

***

gentle breeze...
the memory of your kisses
along my spine


(Written for The Art of Paying Attention E-course and the Mindful Writing Prompt #4.)

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