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once again and always

I asked myself (aloud) yesterday,

with some bemusement

of peace

and hope

and life sewn of the two

and peace was determined


to be the irregular little stone with the pale white stripe

tossed aloft and plummeting


whilst then and there


a slug approached

the next centimeter of path, warming


all the while


the grass stiffly oversaw

and burst with verdancy, yearning forth


at once with


the ancient air bewitching clouds

like slower, softer stones


and all told


of their way to be

at once again and always

and that, again,

is hope

so life is

once again and always

or so I said (aloud) to myself yesterday

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