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Ode to Old Town 

These red bricked streets and earthquaked buildings
These long glass eyes
Ghosts of burgeoning vines and overlapping progeny
These haunting grounds

These homes for dreams, plans, dust
collecting between the stones, foam
in the fountain (tonight, last time)
Pigeons and people, the players
Change, and keep on changing

The dramas remain, consistency of concerns
Shops open, close
A family tree grows in each doorway
twisted pipe branches memories
In this place I changed
All past-tenses creating this present
Existing between conjoining recollections and
This play, this stage, this back drop
This lead
This love

My heart lives here, wandered, wounded, welcome
In the place I will always be welcome
Things change
and keep on changing

My self changes
and keeps on changing

— Diamond Moebus

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