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shuffle of the day

It was a very well-written day.

As always, morning. And the paragraphs began with the president, full of purpose and direction.

Later, events unfolded in the rain. Occasional bursts sunlight/birdsong.

In the background, if you watched for them, images and characters and breathing beings passed through

Old white man walks slow and stiff careful, careful his arms full of red roses in full bloom.

Black Navy veteran, her hair close-cropped blonde, drives a scooter across the highway. Sign on the back of the seat proclaims her a proud veteran. In front, a tiny black dog in a basket. Head up, he stares down the traffic. Dares those cars to move.

There was another. These things come in threes. But the third one got lost in the shuffle of the day.

So we’ll all need to stay awake today and watch for that third Amazement or Intrigue or Quirky Delight, to round off the set.

To finish this poem.

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