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In the course of time it is only natural; things react, with air, with moisture, things darken. (That's just the way things go.) Time only heals what we leave in the past; the things we take with us darken our faces. I used to be able to see myself in the bowls of the silver spoons, (my smile widened and greatly exaggerated,) then in the blades of the knives, sharp enough to separate meat from bone to cut things down to size small enough to manage small enough to nourish myself with, but the air and the damp crept into them too, somehow invaded their royal velvet. I lay them to rest six inches deep in a simple solution of water, aluminum, and baking soda. Crude. But, who can afford real solutions? We make do with salts, and foil, and water from the tap, watching and waiting for time to turn back. June 27, 2018

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 6/28/2018 6:17:00 AM
Jack.. I enjoyed reading your work this morning. Always nice to check out creative lines with a cup of coffee!
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Jack Webster
Date: 6/28/2018 10:43:00 AM
Thank you, Lyric Man! I'll have to start posting poems before 6am :P