Aug 25, 2022Liked by Naomi

Suspended in time

Willing things to speed up, but

August slowed me down

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In August

Her brown thumb turned green

At dusk she never saw weeds

Nor any fireflies

In August

Butterflies hovered

She paddled -

turtles passed her

Cicada soft hum

In August

Swamp roses bowed heads

The scent of sweet forgiveness

She learned to exhale

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