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Poetry, thoughts, and quotations to help get us through the night.
Tuesday, June 28, 2022
Excerpt: Leaves of Grass
In folks nearest to you finding also the sweetest and strongest and lovingest,
Happiness not in another place, but this place . . not for another hour, but this hour
Walt Whitman
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Poem: Butter
My mother loves butter more than I do, more than anyone. She pulls chunks off the stick and eats it plain, explaining cream spun around into...
Just make it up
Marty, the future isn't written. It can be changed. You know that. Anyone can make their future whatever they want it to be. D...
Poem: Tree Heart/True Heart
The hearts of trees are serially displaced pressed annually outward to a ring. They aren’t really what we mean by hearts, they so eas...