"In summer, the song sings itself." - William Carlos Williams
It's true, isn't it? As the season comes to an end, the nostalgic part of me turns back to remember and relish the moments that rang out in summer's joyful chorus.
These ones are different -- they're not mine. They are the stories of others. Not one, but many.
These ones are different -- they're not mine. They are the stories of others. Not one, but many.
And together, they're not just telling stories. They're singing them.
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