memories
lie scattered
across my courtyard
like many flowers
early morning
some taken in
find place
at the feet of the lord
or in the goddesses hair
while some wither away
on the ground
the courtyard looks beautiful
as long as they are there
before finding redemption
in the red earth
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I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write
