I’m not a swagman
but I slept with Matilda
underneath the stars
I’m not a swagman
but I slept with Matilda
underneath the stars
Red is to the left
Like port wine after dinner
Ships pass in the night
We have Reps and Dems
Two political parties
At constant discord
As the night descends
I ponder another day
Off to work I’ll go
On Mount Erebus
forty-one years have gone by.
Airplane crashed, lost friends.
Too many big words
It’s sesquipedalian
Well, that’s what I think
Enjoying the breeze
Listening to the vicinage
trees rustling, dogs bark
African Starlings
Soon heading to warmer south
Winter approaching
Stopped eating grilled cheese
She ran a rabbit rescue
Now eats her toast plain
I have more to say
to tell, to do. to write down
having a hard time
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