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A Whiff of Long Ago
A gentle breeze blows across the meadow,
Sways the flowers standing still;
Releasing fragrance into the air.
Reflections of another time,
Stirs the old woman's thoughts;
Of playmates long since gone.
Playing in the sunlight,
Chasing butterflies;
Smelling the flowers.
Memories are just echoes;
Of what use to be;
A flashback of pleasant times.
Nothing last forever,
Except the gentle breeze;
It always blows the same.
~Leona M. Mars~
May 4, 2015
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A Whiff of Long Ago
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