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Autumn
Lakes of soft crimson, brown, and yellow ripple at the feet. Every leafy descent, a hypnotic beat, Observed by the discerning few, As the World waves bye to the morning dew. Barren sun lined limbs lie in a cluster, Hopes whiff and twirl with every bluster, Startled birds begin to shuffle and jeer, For they know winter will be long this year.
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The Eye of my Tornado
I was sitting here this evening searching for the latest news on #HurricanHarvey, when a song started playing that hit me over the head like a ton of bricks to pull me out of the deluge of weather reports. Back in the mid 90’s, I worked with and hung out with a bunch of social rejects. That’s a bit harsh, but irregardless of the term, we all bonded for reasons varying for social ineptitude to sheer rejection of society. We had everyone from the crazed punk rocker to the free living hippie. I called a lot of these people friends even though society called them outcasts. We were different. That’s…
