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The Boy Who Knew Something

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A spark of something

Blown on through the breeze

Of time

What did he know?

Something about dreams, perhaps

That dreams try

To work out something

And something about wandering

That loneliness

Is good

That reactive loneliness is hard

But being on one’s own

As a decision for oneself

Is not so bad

Bicycle

Riding across an empty schoolyard

Creeking

Climbing rocks

Falling

There’s a bruise

One survives

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The working out of dreams

When dreams are ridiculed

That’s when it gets hard

Harder than the stones

One fell upon

Growing up will help

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If only there could be an arc

So many things

Could be worked out

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Call it memory

Call it inspiration

Allowed to last

Let it last

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C L Couch

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Photo by Hugo L. Casanova on Unsplash

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