SEPARARTION ANXIETY

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Submitted Date 04/30/2019
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he was sitting under the palm trees

watching an old Mexican man

play the bagpipes in the town square

while I watched rotting driftwood

wash up along the shores of Lake Erie

man-made boats, battered and worn

bobbed up and down in the shallow waves

just past the shore

here at home seagulls were doing the same

the sky was blue although his worthy of poetry

and we were two brothers

not born of the same blood

but a bond that tied us from childhood

separated only by different waters

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