Words ought to be a little wild, for they are the assault of thoughts on the unthinking. — John Maynard Keynes
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Fruits… like having their portrait painted. They seem to sit there and ask your forgiveness for fading. Their thought is given off with their perfumes. They come with all their scents, they speak of the fields they have left, the rain which has nourished them, the daybreaks they have seen.
— Paul CézanneThe Cat Cam
Travels to NZ
20 Plus Years of 30 poems in 30 days!
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