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Expatriate

We scan the skies as vapor sails, made wide by distance, destinations guessed at, criss-cross trails of global peregrinations; two of thousands flying high 'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. Time and separation matter not, our spirits meld where'er we land, cities mysterious and grand, we simmer in a melting pot. In early years we settled down, Republic versus Queen and Crown, three thousand miles, an ocean's span of redefining can't and can. An innocent, so far abroad, an interstitial, like a fraud, forever seeks the real me while clinging to your constancy; expatriate, with memories of England dear, the land I love.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 5/20/2013 8:09:00 AM
Dearest Keith, Britain is in your soul, no matter where you body's landed. You language as always is superb. love, Kathy
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Date: 5/19/2013 11:43:00 PM
What many layered write Kieth..' about England, I am facinated by this place all the time it goes along at some speed you know.." yet at the sane time its attitudes and system are medievil..' crazy..' I gather you to be british from the write.'
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Book: Shattered Sighs