Some ask for much,
I only ever wanted a ribbon for this old typewriter.
The keystone, the rose, spoke delicately to me, yeah.
Does this old opinion even matter?
I suppose not.
The tracks led into a vanishing point that all blended into one.
These old photos, hearts on cards, twin sized, apart.
How do you restart the dark?
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
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