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Life in the Salt Shaker
Thursday, March 09, 2006
A Flower
Walking through the forest,
I saw a flower -
Soft, pale yellow, delicate-
I picked it.
The trees wept with sadness.
The ferns bowed their heads.
The birds stopped their singing
and looked on with mournful silence.
D.Walsh 1970
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A Walk Beside the Sea
A Flower
The First Snowfall
If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking . .
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