people cupped lilacs in their hands and breathed from the cluster of flowers as if an oxygen mask. I breathed the lilac sky like smelling a blossom, throbbing clouds cupped in my hands.
Tonight I have seen the most glorious sunset. An orange tulip bulb sank into the West—delivered to my family—over green valleys and low forests. This might be the beginning of the sun.
In Tim’s Little Big Store across from the river, they play Credence Clearwater Revival constantly, as if, just like the six packs of Shipyard Ale by the door—it’s been that way for forty years. And it’s just right.

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