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| Future Wyatt orbing in |
We drift alone
You may come
Draw up your feet
To sit beside me for a while
Or you stroll away yet again
In my head I paint a picture
Your golden light
Encompassing, healing
and real.
This is one of Linda's poems about Wyatt that she kept in her secret files. Visit Carry On Tuesday for more about the prompt. I thought I give it a TCP-twist.
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