Not a beauty, nor beautiful,
 |
*I don't have a cat anymore, though I wish I did.
|
shining spots of language,
slid along the page,
as though skating on ice.
(even though there was never ice in Mississippi)
Choreographed without
routine to a melody,
seldom heard before or since.*
If only such sentences arrived in my mail box.
*inspired by the letters of Eudora Welty and Ross MacDonald read in the collection titled: Meanwhile there are Letters
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