I love a man
with dark brown hair.
I do know why,
and even care.
His many moods
are a bright mirror
where I see life,
so much clearer.
© Julianne Carlile
Saturday, March 1, 2014
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dying leaves on trees changing color falling down where now is your soul
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My grandmother used to take us fishing. Feet dangling from the pier, she’d bait our hooks and take the fish off. Most too...
