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Easter
i spent the night, up, waiting for you,
sitting at the spot where the trail turns toward our house.

i know the sun will not yet, or quite, be up when you come with
your eggs and your chocolates in that giant basket.

until then, my fingers trace lettering burned on the surface of the ashe.
LOUISVILLE SLUGGER.

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›post #108
›bio: nate
›perma-link
›4/4/2010
›06:12

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