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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-12-09 | | What can I say that hasn’t been said, when everything comes back again – recycled like clothes washed and worn, what is new today is old tomorrow; nature recycles herself, seeks peace in the well-known memories: feelings recycled, the friendly house, a safe haven, familiar faces: warming fires, welcoming; do not change what is, it frightens me - the neighbour’s dog lingers around, he knows our story, it’s written on the ground, I, too, will sit here for a while and watch the wild geese fly Sybille(Sydney)Krivenko 2007
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