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The New Found Less To Do

Not a day goes by,
Without it beginning...
Fresh with each day,
To brighten a night darkened sky.
Even at dawn,
The air to breathe is fresh.
To inhale and exhale.
As if to rejuvenate every cycle of breath.
Yet...
The new found less to do,

Seems more to take for granted.
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Thursday, January 24, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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7/23/2021 9:52:35 AM # 1.0.0.663