Saturday, November 29, 2008

1964


somewhere in my consciousness


a place i never lived

a time i was not part of


an old suitcase

coca-cola and a

painted

wooden

porch


i am sitting in the hot sun


now fading

this paint

cracked and drying

this old wood

once winter weather beaten

now a shadow box

for trees and birds wings


i breathe one still breath


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