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Random First Lines:1942. The world is at war. England is hanging on by its fingernails. America is still reeling after Pearl Harbour. And Russia is fighting to... » Read
In the when the sun has gone down behind the trees, thoughts come, like friends or like foes, to disturb the corridors of peace. This poem is the captured thoughts of such an evening and is intended to celebrate the randomness of ideas as they occur, and their connectivity.