Notes About The Poem
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THE PAVEMENT SOFTENS
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The old man spills his groceries~
apples rolling like lost marbles.
A stranger kneels, not glancing
at the impatient queue behind her.
Her hands move without hurry,
gathering what was scattered,
as if the apples were her own.
The man's trembling fingers
find hers—cold skin meeting warmth~
and for a moment,
the pavement softens.
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