white-coat-poet
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Monday, January 26, 2015
The Front Porch
In my dream,
it’s always sunny.
It’s always warm.
It’s always sunset.
A violet evening,
mango melting sky,
the wind purring
through summer’s
golden lips,
and me and my life
on the front porch, praying,
time never storms out
but slips quietly by.
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