July 13, 1986
Swish, swish,
The wiper blades -
The raindrops fall
To be swept away.
Swish, swish,
The cars go by -
The wind rushes
On the highway.
Gray sky,
Gray air,
Gray day -
We're almost there.
High hills,
Underhill,
Camp awaits
To grant my fill.
New me,
New day,
New hopes
For a bright day.
Swish, swish,
The rush of air -
A few more hours,
I'll be there.
For Don Moors with affection bordering so near to love as to be indistinguishable. Thank you for everything you have taught me or done for me.
Please View and Sign My Guestbook
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© 1998-2002 Debbie Palmer.
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