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August 16, 2011

Mesmerized once again by 
sun through the morning clouds
a silent fall of rain
the twirling dance of walnut leaves past my window
this cool breeze on my skin
the tiny sounds of a nearby squirrel
my windchimes on the porch
the rustle of the cottonwood tree
I feel all will to go and do other than this
this listening seeing writing
slipping away.  More and more I want
to have no obligation but this:  to 
observe and reflect our world.

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