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Created on: April 17, 2008
Like polished obsidian, his eyes still pierce my defenses.
Over ten years dead. I tread water in his wake.
From a moonshine youth, through a South Pacific tour,
Wooing & winning his life's companion,
Raising the kids. Winning the bread. Grasping the wheel. Manning the helm.
Voice like thunder in my head- still echoes,
" Do not settle! Do not quietly anguish! Suffer no man to esteem you less than I do!"
He had to die before I would listen.
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