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…walk, the first frostof November in the grass, full moonradiating white light in a cloudless sky,so close I want to be a kid againand climb the old oak in our yardtrying to touch the cheek of the lonelyman in the moon.
Thomas Plummer
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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Me, too. This brought a lump to my throat
J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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