carrotsA Poem by SkinlessFranki’m watching the lost shoppers push their carts through the produce aisle looking for something they once upon a time knew was alive when the cold air of harvest time crept up their sleeves and the moist dirt on the bottoms of their shoes reminded them that they too were once alive and maybe i was too © 2012 SkinlessFrank |
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Added on November 10, 2012Last Updated on November 16, 2012 Author
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