Fanciful

mine

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These are my people.
And that is my river.

Actually, that River is Detroit’s.
And those people belong to God.

But, He shares them with me.

Like last week. When we all gathered and walked through the blessed space that is Belle Isle, an island close to the banks of America and Canada both, and we even waved at Canada and I started singing their National Anthem but cut out after about seven words. The guys, thought, knew much more of it; they finished it for me.

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“I watched a lot of hockey growing up,” Chris said.

“You’re a good neighbor,” Julia told him.

They also talked to me about books they read/ philosophies they enjoyed. They climbed trees. I halfway showed them how to do a circus inversion, but it wasn’t really all that clean of a mount (I thought of a better way to do it, later).

And then we went out for Thai, which is always a good idea after you have been hiking. For the sinuses.

But what a good step into the new year, eh? A good step. With good people. Shared with me. By God.

And, in this way, I’ll share it with you.

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