Jess McCarthy

7/2/2006 Gloucester
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familiar

long grass tickles my chin
denim shorts with the butterflies stitched on the pockets
my unicorn t-shirt sticky with ice cream
the steady breathing of my old dog stretched beside me
the smell of freshly cut grass
barbecues
smoky bonfires
the droning of some distant plane
a soft song from the birds
the chirp of a cricket

how can it still be so vivid?
and why am i crying?
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