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at 65

At 65, I am set in my ways, but

I am still hoping for flexibility

At 65, I am repeating stories told 10, 30, and 40 years ago


even I am tired of hearing them now


At 65,

I want to make new acquaintances with ideas,

and materials,

I want to make

new work

new inroads

new noise

At 65,

I want to sing through the objects born of my hands

at 65 pearls and birch.jpg
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