Hanging around town
for the rest of your life.
It's in the small things--
the echoing of Sunday morning church bells.
The thoughts of the city--
leaning old brick cathedrals;
Morning light coming through
staind glass windows;
The muted shuffling of feet.
Sins relieved. The soul ignited.
Then, out again,
wherever I may be.
10 years ago
Full of senses, excellent.
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