Spring
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Tick…. tock….. tock of the clock, the bells, chiming along inside my urgency, latency, where I dwell, there are old wounds now to dispel…
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As the sun rays were warming the trees in the morning of Colorado skies, I was kissing the air in thanks that I was still breathing. As the snow effortlessly perched on top of all the green things, I walked around the block, ran a bit, then slowed down to be grateful once again. As…
anita lorraine moore 