Just like a poem by Tom Hennen

I am sitting on the front steps of a home I haven't moved into quite yet, my new home. The front steps are a really nice spot; no one can see me and I can see the no one who can't see me–the young woman walking a small dog, a Chinese lady who's wearing a bright blue dress and a red shawl. It's just after lunchtime and I can't decide whether I'm hungry or not hungry. I'm waiting for someone, his name is Frank, he should be here by now.

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