Standing

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There is a season

for standing.

It begins

low,

and keeps on slow.

The wind

blows

dirt from your head.

You clean up nice
and when your height

is enough

you'll get the attention of some.

Ahem. Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen.

What I have to say today is . . .

Well, I have nothing to say.

Let me just show you.

~ Ruth M.

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