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A Rakish Tale
Once the “go to guy”
I linger, ever hopeful
Of a need to fill.
Long for the
Tickle
Of long grass
Crackle
of fallen leaves
Scent
of the garden.
I am older
my handle
slightly splintered
my tines
bent
several missing.
Mocked
by motored newcomers
I wait
knowing
there are still times
that situations
will call for
The “go to guy”
John G. Lawless
©1/8/2023
Copyright ©
John Lawless
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