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Thursday, December 18, 2014

The parade

There's a place in the middle of all of this, where I am not moving, where I am never moving. I have never moved.

I knew this when I was a child. My world was made up of weeds in the breeze in the sun by the mud where the polywogs swam, and I pulled off the leeches, ran to the trees, swinging and climbing.

The air. The air was so sweet.

I looked at it all and I knew there was a place for it all, a place that never moved.

The parade was for me.  

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