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The Evening Walk
The summer breeze lapped at my hair
Firmly yet gently lifting each strand
The warm caress of the sun
Brought happiness to my weeping skin
My lips parted as laughter
Freely trickled down my chin
My eyes lit a beaming path for my feet
As I began my evening walk
Abruptly I tripped and fell
Soberly I looked around
For the object of my humility
And found myself gazing into my own eyes
I had tripped and fallen over myself
Fighting to regain a composure
That proved to be elusive
I stood and faced myself
As I continued my evening walk
Copyright ©
Mary Scott
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