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Thursday, June 14, 2012

The White Stork - an early piece

Daily I pick up
My secret Treasure
And gently caress
It's faded surface with a cloth,
Letting no dust desecrate
It's smooth lines.
Then delicately, I replace it
To it's rightful place.
It's not worth much;
Just a reminder
Of a summer of virgin love,
Unspoken but
As solid as the white porcelain,
Frozen in it's timeless stance.


Dedicated to Bruce R. Jacobson of the Hill.

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