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My Hopes Are Dashed and Scattered


My hopes are dashed and scattered,
There’s no more grace to spare,
For flyaway potatoes
Have landed everywhere!
They’ve landed on my shoulders,
They’ve landed on my knee,
They’ve landed in the ocean,
They’ve landed in the sea.
Some folks would call it bounty,
But I call it bad luck
To live in Tater County
And drive a tater truck.
Perhaps I should be grateful
For taters, lanes, and such,
But after three bad crashes,
I am not grateful much.


 

Poem © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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Scattered

IMG_3275
Broken dinnerware, littering the desert near Yuma, Arizona
 


Can these scattered shards be repaired?

 
Photo and text © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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