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Tuesday, February 22, 2011

February dribbles - 22

In dreams she flies high, eagle-eyed, and she’s free, till radios sing.
“Mama, wake up.” Small son crying.
“Mam. Did you miss your alarm?” Has the son somehow grown?
Years have passed. The eagle’s alone in a well of neglect, broken-winged, flown to dust.
“Love?” It’s time now for us.

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