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A crimson dragon- fly, Why! never seen one of those before, here; - my Beach, these febriled oh- pressive days, re-bleaching to a 14Mil-Shill only "Ernst & Friends" only know; so I meande this other, other tres Yoga place, Ma- ma & young Swan - Proustian? - decide to shore, so smooth, they, as if guide, tethered below, two Windfanned- down SnowFeathers, as from a chapeau, no! degage` "Dolly Varden" offered-over for simple frags of the bread at hand, some too in a tossing-up for the diminutive red- bill Moorehen in the pecking water, as hungry mosqa do their thing euchre - chancing - flitting a pluck voracity against their Lives, this yet another sad tingle... and in a new bluff I fauxstrut from the Love we breathed... this, another SatHerday-Sunday.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

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