I close my eyes and I remember South:
The sweet juice of an apple.
The loud bark of a dog.
The call to arms of a distant base.
The electric buzz of telephone wires.
The smell of cut grass and tar.
The slight sting of a scraped knee.
The spray of a sprinkler.
The feeling of grass on my elbows.
I do believe I may have missed out
on something beautiful.
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