Peanut

sit before this machine

this keyboard

this electronic device

the walls have boxed my body in (here), but my mind still rides on the Stormy South Easter

the photos piled up in boxes

and off lately

on memory stick’ and hard-drives

the world flies by

time waits for no one

Your gypsy mane blows in the wind

in my dreams

both day

both night

always

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