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where education and life experiences merge through poetic form

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I like the sharp contrast of a red tomato on my white window sill. I don't pay attention to the fruit so much as the color. The tomato can hide its age behind its red dress until I pick it up, and the fruit sits, soft and shrinking in my hand. Don't you think a tomato is like a person with undiscovered talents, until she is too old for it to matter?

 I wrote "Crossing the Double Yellow" after a serious accident occurred on our road. Cars drove too fast on that rural road, and occasionally an irreversible 

accident stopped our breaths and reminded us that lives should not be wasted.


We were experiencing our first trip to London: the blend of centuries old architecture with modern buildings and the diversity of cultures and languages and a smile from a woman I did not know.

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