from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (63)
inevitably
we would join hands
twirl a circle
with wild abandon
then fall into laughter
on the fresh cut grass
.
summer was summer
for longer than a summer
could be or ever would
be again
.
when the kids on the street
were everyone we knew
and the world was safe
nearby
(June 16, 2020)
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