November 2011
11 posts
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October 2011
25 posts
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Trees
storiesfromthefield:
Amongst Trees is where I like to be
City with tall buildings near the sea
Big hills with misty streets
The night glow on the wet concrete
Where you can watch seasons turn
something I’ve always yearned
Near the sea
And amongst trees is where you’ll find me.
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Turn the soil
storiesfromthefield:
Slow down the exit is coming close; to a place that was once home.
No more orange blossoms on the the drive home.
The vines will still grow there, the thing is we won’t.
A place we couldn’t wait to escape; is now a place that hurts to leave behind.
We danced through sprinklers, fell off bikes
It’s where we LIVED life
but now, its what we LEAVE behind.
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