The old battered truck chugs me up
To the house where my people live
At the belly, it sits roosting,
Of this mountain range of spices...
White cottony fleeces against a crystal blue
Like dreams of the past, of a similar hue.
An obscure moon
A sad smile for what is lost...
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7/29/2021 2:52:50 PM # 18.104.22.1686