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Wait’ll you wish you had brought your polarized sunglasses so yo can find the slipped clear “eyes” you put someplace new…hah! our foggy season comes with a chill nor’east limp breeze after a pleasant soaking the day before and then you must go about with a knife and fork for to cut a clear path and toss aside the big chunks to mark the route. “getting old gets old” too close to true…this unsissy stuff called ageing keeps lurking at the middle of my vision these days, no longer a peripheral player. How do the nono-genarians cope: all the octo’s have fled for condos cared for by platoons of carpet-footed “help.” Think I shall go bang a few pots with long wooden spoons this a’ternoon to draw attention to a nearing tropical disturbance. I always though fog that doesn’t clear up is called cataracts. Or is that mere de-nial?

Cat Nap Revue

stumbling in fog
that doesn’t clear up
getting old gets old

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