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Lord, I’m 500 miles from home, you can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles. —Peter, Paul, and Mary Driving […]
1. when I see I’ve overwatered it again, I jab the turkey baster into the rust-colored runoff before the water
Just beyond the entrance to Knott’s Berry Farm where hundreds congregate to plan what rides to ride what shows to
I like how the mallard ducklings
goofy and weak
waddle up the cement incline
Place your head in the split of doll’s house, so you can look out a window like a doll. Tell