Judy McNuttJudy McNutt
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Day 502 TO BEING


Feet held gently
In socks
Or just skin
Light soft on head, shoulders, arms
And backs of hands
Clock ticks in measures
Perhaps the wind stirs
Beneath the door
Breath slows to leisurely
Rise and fall
Eyes close on their own
No disturbance
Regardless of environmental conditions
Presence itself asks for no omissions
Surrenders to


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