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Sense

The smells of years
before
Came

Crushed trodden
wet leaves
oppressed

Smelling drenched Punga
Sensing the life
Tripping
through
the bush
stumble on logs

I know

Slipping to a new adventure
Washed with sea
Cleansed with sunlight

All have a journey
Eventually

"Tea for Two"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2017
About this poem:
All people slip into whether many journeys or a few journeys we do.
But journeys they are.

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