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The Little Things

*pic courtesy from pinterest  The little things the little smile the little flower in the corner aisle the little butterfly catches my eye along with  the hovering bee like sketches drawn in the sky look at the little ant fleet just close to my feet the little spider takes a warm seat the little girl who hops on the broken tile while her mother looks right across  the street from a mile I wave at her she waves back the little gestures the little fingers the little spider continues to linger the little heartbeats as humming treats while I pick up the little crumbs from my bread last night

Marks

A mark at the corner..
Words from a loner.
An imaginary kiss from a goner..
Glimpses of childhood.
A sketch on the stone wall..
Gripping you from a steady fall.
The broken call..
A known voice seeps in.
Wounded knee oozing pain..
The running past a haunted lane.
The warmth the ease..
A jumping trail and crowd galore.
A pat the spat..
A never ending look at that.
With life turning flat.
Mad yet glad..
At the ways we had.
Marks light up..
Carving pathways.
To keep walking until..
those marks stay buried..
Deep inside our souls.

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