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Monday, February 27, 2012

The crocuses glimmer in the sun on your street.

A myriad of emotions, floating remembrances rising to the surface. Hammering musically on the skin. A dulcimer of thoughts dissipate as I wait for the train. The notes already forgotten leaving only the rising and falling beat of the heart in rhythm to the sound of the tracks. Forward forward it chants.

It feels too early for spring. And yet here it is, again.

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