the last poem
The last poem was written to my aunt annie. they took her off of the trasplant list. A true American. love you Anne
This started out while we were homeless, living out of a mini van. My wife and I were doing craft fairs, art fairs and flea markets with jewelry we made from wire and beads and things we'd found if we are broke enough, which we often are. Also details the accounts of our two dogs Lucky and Hank, female and male golden retrievers.
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