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may 16th 2009
the field
one more thing
twilight, on the verge of a storm rolling in, i dug and poured the water for poppies to root in the soil with ash.
around, i strew one hundred seeds, so in a year, the field will be full of flowers.
that little rugged field between high, low and water ways, was his favourite place. now the field will remember him like i do; full of colour.
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