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The Blue House on Old Wire MAG
I looked out of the window
watching the small blue house
disappear from view.
That house, where so many muddy snowmen
were constructed, looking out at us with
bright black button eyes.
Summer days spent
splashing in a small plastic pool,
Easters spent looking for
brightly colored eggs
hiding in the secret places
that only you know.
The trees sway above you
fresh and green, dancing
like giants, glad to be warm
and alive again.
That house that held us,
safe and warm.
I looked out of
the window
and could not see
our little blue house anymore.
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