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A Summer Morning

An hour after sunrise and the neighbors roll past in air conditioned cars, intent upon work or appointments. With caution they pause and merge into the flow of traffic on the busy arterial.

My pace is slower. This morning the roses in my neighbor’s front yard catch my attention. Proud on their stems they seem unconcernedĀ their burst of glory will be short. No, they stand tall as if to say “Look at me!” And I do, enjoying their fullness and their scent. For too soon they will gain dry edges and be targeted by the owner and her pruning scissors.

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