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One Saturday Afternoon


I saw an old man in an old town,

both covered in a veil of dust

still settling from the good days.

They say he was a big man,

a great man in his time.

As I watched him hobble

down a brick-paved sidewalk

I took in a deep breath,

tasted the dust of a by gone era,

and spat onto the ground.

“There aren’t many old towns

like this left,” I said to myself.

“Nor many old men like him,”

my mind added.

Suddenly, I knew how

it must have felt back then

to be an alligator and watch

the dinosaurs die.

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