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journey from point A (womb) to point B (tasteful little urn on the mantle)
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our gasp in the time-space continuum
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hiway 101, Camino Real, the road of my choildhood, between San Diego and Monterey: my yellow brick road
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let the world hear your voice, know your dreams, see your joy
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a group of poems describing three seasons as they pass in Monterey County and a winter in Kansas
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rengö
I
have never danced
only in my
heart, in my mind
I stand in
shadows
looking,
longing from the fringe
as the danc..
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question about god or God
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the measure of our days
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When I was a young girl, my family crossed the Pacific on a Navy ship. This is how I remember it.
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In an asylum, solitary confinement or simply locked in one's room, humans have needs.
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