Array
(
[sid] => 186378
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Ordinary Way
[time] => 2019-07-11 00:43:11
[hometext] => I met a dying woman today, and am again stunned at the courage of ordinary people.
[bodytext] =>
Having the cautionary tale of being human
under my belt,
cinched and relaxed over the years,
inflated and deflated in no particular order;
quite in the cycle of one or the other even now,
these states of being, of seeing,
are all the same somehow.
That crimson snap,
always on white linen for the cameras,
present in my mind as one awaits the grandfather chimes;
forgotten almost, until crimson eats a cotton black,
and camera less,
a tear escapes with no way back.
[comments] => 4
[counter] => 95
[topic] => 13
[informant] => invierno
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => DarkPoetry
)
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