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A Resting Spot
Aren’t these stairs perfect for a rest?
Grasping the wooden rail I read the past thoughts.....Sarah loves John and be free
Peacefully quiet
Where’d that soft breeze go?
The small city below, filled with busy people, and i'm up here, free.
All mine
My hand slips of the rough rail and I leap off the last wooden step, landing on hard ground.
My pace picks up, I begin running again, racing home
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