An American Father

And rushing through the needles
crowded on the branch
high above the snowy field
the windy music danced
and danced to me the irony
of life and living free
I’m here to be a father
but what’s a father to me?

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Elan Mudrow

Smidgens

Bitter Gertrude

Blogging about Theatre and Culture since 2013

Engage!

Critical Dharma for Thinking Minds

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Josep Goded

Seeking Truth

LYNCH

:to put to death (as by hanging) by mob action without legal approval or permission

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