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		<title>Robert L. | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/rclvirginia</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Robert L.</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>A Self-Study</title>
			<description>The cloud-dripped follicles on which you walk---The scalp of the earth both muddy and soft---You talk in tones clever and arabesque,Your ruthless visage and vacuum demeanorBespeak volumes---encyclopedias--On intentions and motives of the self.Your feet must be soaked, socks just like sponges,Dandeli..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1176327/</link>
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			<title>What to do when the lights go out...</title>
			<description>Seems simple enough, right?</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1174700/</link>
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			<title>Welcome to My World</title>
			<description>&amp;ldquo;Welcome to my world,&amp;rdquo;Says the poet to his page,&amp;ldquo;Like a boulder being hurled,On you I&amp;rsquo;ll write my rage.&amp;rdquo;A shepherd&amp;rsquo;s staff doth lead the sheepBoth in and out the gate.Is each of us a mindless sheepMarked with a certain fate?The glistening coilOf a serpent&amp;rsquo;s ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1173241/</link>
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			<title>Choreography in the Carpet</title>
			<description>The slithery curves in the carpetFrom my seated perspective seemTo be an ordered pirouette Graphing from some ballerina&amp;rsquo;s dream.One view may yield a human curve,Another yield one aviary.Like tufty cumulus few observeThe same forms even when they tarry.I suppose when she awakensThe ballerina&amp;rs..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1172188/</link>
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			<title>Our Father Sees Every Sparrow Fall</title>
			<description>	&amp;ldquo;Don&amp;rsquo;t be late for lunch, Sheridan,&amp;rdquo; she called after the young lad, as the screen door squeaked and slammed shut.	&amp;ldquo;I won&amp;rsquo;t, Mom,&amp;rdquo; he replied, the door opening and closing again, exponentially quicker, and a body-wagging, bright eyed beagle came following the boy..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1171527/</link>
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			<title>The Friend</title>
			<description>Eloquent words, veiling and hollow:He shrouds my ears and consciousness.In sinful mire I do still wallow:Searching for truth in darkness.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1171520/</link>
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			<title>The Hot Air Balloon</title>
			<description>It gently floats through the inferno</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1171516/</link>
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			<title>To the Teacher of a Young Child</title>
			<description>A true story and its broader interpretation...</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/rclvirginia/1171513/</link>
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