Puddle Stomp by Jessica Bozek Morning Break. His feeble body weakly carried, across the black parking lot. Octobers chilly air lifts his thinning hair. He stares at his rubber shoes covering his feet, then at a puddle, left by an evening shower. Looking for spectators and successfully finding none. He stomps about in the tiny puddle. Then returns to his akward walk, with a childlike smile. Jessica M. Bozek copyright c2002 Jessica M. Bozek |
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Moving On Waikiki Sunset Red Lipstick Bookcase of Fear |
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