Silent trees stretch upward, tickle the sun
Gravel flies by, kick up dust as we run
Her smile and shout begins the footrace
Memories in a field of Queen Anne's lace
Bought my ticket home.
Shukran,
Kelsey
I have a dream, and perhaps it is false, that poetry is without borders, that all human poetry is one single poem. -Darwish
WhoooHoooo...so glad you will be home before Maria leaves....I think she has found a house to live in with 4 other students...and a hamster!;)
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