Jenkins Street Poetry Project
A collection of original poems by Don Stinson
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Wherever You Are, There You Go
Sometimes
I see things
No one else does,
Faces in places
No one else looks;
My mind’s gone
From one end
Of my memory
To the other,
Poor mad nomad
On a stick camel
Caught in a storm
Of tiny, shiny nows.
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