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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:38:02 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 7766
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => spring park
[time] => 2002-12-01 15:30:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Spring Park.
It was a cliché spring day in the park grass was greening the sun filtered through new leaves on elm trees and birds were singing, busy building nests. Had bought a newspaper and sat down on a bench near an old man who with his cane made invisible circles in the air. “ I’m eighty-four and still fit.” He said. “ Hmm, interesting” “ My wife died ten years ago.” “ How sad.” I opened the paper but didn’t read was thinking of what my doctor had said that if I did that operation I could live for another twenty years. And be as old and lonely as the man next to me? Yet we all like to live as long as possible, we don’t know anything else. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 207 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Jan_Oskar_Hansen [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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