DXII

 

I’m holding a blue rock in my hands.

I begin to move the jagged, hefty piece, around with my fingers and thumb.

It is easy to become attached to this little treasure, that I do not remember where or when it was found.

 

 

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eBook | Travels With The Hermit Poet | Stories Of Human Condition | Poetry & Photography

 

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eBook | Tropical Garden Stories | Photography & Poetry By The Hermit Poet

 

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See also:

Global Economy

International Relations

The U.S.A.

 

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Other items found in

The Hermit Poet’s Library:

 


The Economist

 


Banker’s Desk Lamp with Green Glass Shade

 


Foreign Affairs

 

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