Friday Afternoon

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 FRIDAY AFTERNOON


Something's scared the leaves, and now 

they’re sprinting helter-skelter down 

the street. My dog is slightly agitated,

either at the leaves or maybe that 

which scared the leaves, but who

can rightly say? The point to take away

is that the world’s running like a racing

pulse, running like someone’s breathing

down our necks, and hopefully that's

the case and that soon

                                  He'll catch us.

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