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Mornin’

Early morning. Trash day. Haul cart to street.
Boxers. Button fly. Neighbor smiles, then eyes
grow wide. Noticing then, a new day’s breeze.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 8th, 2009 at 9:12 am and is filed under prose poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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