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Riddles

Lost. Lost as a bird egg fallen from the height of limbs. Lost as sweet honey bees with no flower. A hundred riddles in my mind and no guess of reason. What are the chances of finding complacency again? Perhaps I’ll find it there, sitting on a different bench. Outside there are answers under every piece of shredded bark. The water whispers gentleness and the leaves echo calm. The grass sparkles like a field of diamonds. The world makes sense in the sun.

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