I wonder and sometimes worry. Herein lie those ponderings with perhaps some editing but still in their truer forms. Whisper as well, though in truth, whispers are just that, rustlings in the wind and nothing more. It is kind to not be alone with one's own whispers.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Some days I can hear her.
.
.
Her call is so strong.
But I am only what I am.
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