They’re quite like two men I know
who keep a steady rhythm:
chill, seldom prone to outbursts,
could be mistaken for low throttle
on occasion.
Odd they’re drawn to me,
a site of thunderous weeping
and murderous applause.
My wife and I walk through the neighborhood every morning, pretending we’re the Green Police, marking which houses leave the outside lights...
Nature seeks balance, that union of opposites, he she me you it, words, all words
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