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Slowing pace
It's the sound of morning,
waking up the bees.
Today I'm non conforming,
to yesterday's appease.
Time to stray off course,
perhaps linger.
Ride a seahorse,
holding up the finger.
No matter what your like,
or what you would do.
I'm taking a hike,
I'm assuming you will to.
Wearing two different shoes,
and a puzzled face.
No.. it's not the blues,
it's called... slowing pace.
*S*
