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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Same Old

I am excused from work
so I watch the occupation of planets.
Walk in the rain.
Nothing more quiet
than rain falling through leaves.
Discoveries surrounding roses,
their faces opening like children.

I cross the Amazon
to the eternal forest on the other side.
See the little streets of Rome
gray as clouds.
It is what I can do now.
Wonder how the world is balanced.
Same world. Same me.
Remote places where I hear
things talking.

How afternoon provides a pillow
for my head,
and being old is nothing more
than being young.
Eating my porridge,
making my bed,
and building a house of sticks
out of dreams.

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