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Monday, July 23, 2012

Monday's Poem: Crickets

Crickets

The quiet dusk was gently starting stars
And we were unaware of spring and our content,
When old, familiar, winter-silent crickets
Chirped a burst of spring-content surprise.

Peter swung young Ralphie to his back
And I swung Sara up to mine and we--
With all our laughing--skipped outside
And stirred the dirt and danced to all the noise.

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