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Re: Poems Of Any Length
I slipped in onto a cracked cool vinyl seat,
the old car alone sat weeks before; undriven.
It is the smell that transports me though,
jerked back scores of years; to Grandpa's car.
Up early...up early! Going to the farm with Grandpa!
Getting in that smelly old car on cool cracked vinyl seats,
beltless bouncing down dusty dirt through a sea of maize.
Then in a turn and stop and the only smell now is oil and earth,
racing for the windmill to dare who might climb and better see a sea.
Who better that than me on my cracked cool vinyl seat.
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semantics is not always just pedantic quibbling. ~ douglas r. hofstadter
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