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The Journal of A. Paige White just practicin
11/18/2007 07:43 p.m.
trying to get this centered:
Sitting with notebook jotting the things
I want to remember, over all, oval all, Our
favorite fires are built in the rain of yesterdays
emerald leaves and blotchy twigs we laugh at each other
sitting in the door with the old cauldron at our feet with
the wonderful fragrance trapped for my kisses to enjoy in his
beard and hair and lament last night's failure to pull off our
plot of a midnight heist, prize winning collards in the favored
neighbor's patch, he gets up to prod the beginning fire, adding
just the right amount of dried and green twigs and leaves
-backing to our seasonal cauldron, looks over one
shoulder darkened with sprinkles and lightened
with a dash of ash to throw a smouldering
glance,
giving a
wiggle that makes me
giggle at his pronouncement
he's toasting his buns.
Our favorite fires
smoulder best
in the
rain
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