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"Random Patterns And Faces" by Joe DiMino

Interesting how we do see faces in most patterns. In the lace of curtains, some woven with intent some not-yet they are there. Also in the dance of breezed leaves and blossoms, smiling, then frowning, as if to say, what expression do you seek?-have you not seen all faces before? In the spaces of loneliness, in the fields of buried dead-stones bare of blossoms, forgotten while wasted warmth passed till a chill of memory awakened a heart to what could have been. Ah! Those sculpted, iron gates…as we come and go…quiet passing alone will or will not show; let us enter and exit trumpeting our courage and faith-and as the poet is to well learn, leaving behind, if nothing else, at the least our attempts to find love.

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