Going Bald: Authenticity or Bust
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Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Calm After
The whispers of vacation recede
remembered only in the near-silent poetry of dogs
dancing through the house on furry-slippered feet.
Frost weeps from the eaves and the trees wake
from icicle-like slumber,
one sun-filled drip at a time.
Words flow through the quiet,
tentative at first but soon humming with energy;
the vigor of creativity and re-creation.
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