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Along the Way

The raindrops fall into the paper cup of tea The teabag shrinks as if it could be my remark Unlatch the green door to the childlike mystery It’s possible again to enter that old park The busts and statues of the gods and greats And shaded benches in the niches of the trees There in the memory another alley waits I haven’t walked on it to see where to it leads Oh no! Those wobbly slabs I’ve walked before The seagulls cry, the wind blows up the sand Then comes the sound of the muted piano chords I’ve no idea why I hear this again.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things