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Whit Howland
Poems
May 10
Destin, Florida
I passed
gas a while back
it was an old Sinclair station
trapped
in a decade long gone
now I'm running on fumes
in the panhandle
a place where stumpy palm trees
line the on-ramps to highways
leading out of town
Destin Florida
Fort Walton Beach
you can see your future
from here
A word painting with straight forward message.
Written by
Whit Howland
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