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Craving those vibrant zinnias from the old neighborhood

We drove over the river to the place where they farmed them.

There on the road was a pure white peacock trying to make it across

Lost the interest in color, when that bird drained me in fear for its  safety.



Author: biochicklet

Scientist raised by intellectuals on poetry, theater, art, history and music in New York City. Escaped to New Mexico to nature and mysticism. Knowing that the absurdities in this life are what we must laugh at.

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