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Oh, the strange, fantastic world of the hypnogogic mind! It's the third week of October and I have just read my poems from this year. They feel...different, somehow. Maybe it's the lack of reference to peaches; the old tree that was responsible for the ones that appeared in previous years' 3:15 poems had to be put down this year and the heir-apparent isn't producing yet. The waking up and going back to sleep was easier this year.
Thanks, again, to all who make this happen.