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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

I was a Cur and lived on the street.
Running and hiding, I'd make my retreat.
Eating when hungry was a sweet luxury
But more often than not, it wasn't me.
My ribs pushed through my aged skin,
I didn't realize the trouble I was in.
Then one day, out of the blue
I met a person; not someone I knew.
She took me home on that very day,
Giving me a bath; washing the dirt away.
Having a home and loving company
I knew at last, that I was now free.

A gentle breeze blows across my brow
as I dig holes for fall plantings.
The problem, I have, with
planting European Bluebells,
is the many roots that grow,
beneath the tree. Not big,
just small roots that must be cut.
Instructions are to plant under a tree
and they will multiply.
I'm anxious to see the results
next Spring.

Sometimes when I'm writing,
I would swear, my mind
Has thoughts of it's own.

With pen in hand, I write
The words that pop into
This brain of mine.
Writing fast, scribbling here,
Unable to read the words
As they fly by, as I attempt to
Write. Oh my goodness
There is no period in sight
To end all this rambling
Prose. There. Finally one
Did appear, but what happened
To the commas?
Did they disappear?
I wish I knew, for it would
Make it clear, that my
Writing sense is not here.

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