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Synesthesia
May 26, 2016
When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness,
you might smell a pile of sawdust from your father’s work area.
The enemy of green hides between the clouds during a thunderstorm.
The swirl of loneliness sounds like the screaming of children playing at a park.
If you look underneath peace, you might hear the wind whistling at night.
At the top of tomorrow waits a bright yellow umbrella.
© Kathleen O., Adrian, MI
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