Thursday, April 9, 2009


Each night driving slowly on the dark Charlotte road so the cows would see us and come over.

Unsure which room to sleep in.

Laughing at the house owner’s in-laws who were dressed head to rubber enclosed toe by L.L. Bean.

Deep from the groin, non-program hugging on village greens.

Then setting off to places of the past,

Together, it seemed.

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