Cricket in the Rhododendron

I used to have a printer, and reams of paper on hand. Envelopes and postage stamps. Now I have a cricket in the rhododendron. I have the things I’ve said, and what I thought they meant. But only as I do or don’t remember them. A closet full of books I no longer need or wear. The coat that fit me when I had short beard and hair. Dust enough […]

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