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Broken Record

My brother’s like a broken record.  He tells me about how we used to bike around the neighborhood pretending we were race car drivers, and how we’d gained multiple knee scrapes from turning the curb too fast. He’ll tell me this story twice, thrice, or even four times in a row, and laugh about the good ol’ days. I laugh with him, because though he doesn’t remember that he’s already told me this story for the fourth time in a row, he does remember the fun we had. My brother’s like a broken record, but I don’t mind one bit.

My Nightly Strolls


Most people like to go

On a nice morning strolls

Through the parks that are home to pixies

And over bridges of grumpy trolls.


Most people like to go on walks

When the sun shines its light

For it is easier to see in the day

Than it is to see in the night.


But I for one prefer to walk

In the dark of the night

Whether the moon is full or not,

For I can make do without the sunlight.


In the cool of the night,

Most people are fast asleep

Leaving me content in the nightly noises

With no desire to count sheep.


There are no people chattering

Or laughing or squabbling

Or yelling or screaming

Or whooping or hollering.


There are only owls hooting

Crickets chirping, winds murmuring,

Leaves rustling, trees creaking,

Twigs snapping, and rivers gurgling.


There are a few pixies

Who glow like fireflies

And dance upon the tree branches

Before the song of the night dies.


But all grumpy trolls that huff and puff

At people crossing their bridges

Are much too busy having pleasant dreams

Of traversing mountain ridges.


Some might think it scary

To walk in the dark of night

For fear of monsters in the shadows

Waiting to give you an awful fright.


But I have no fear of them

Because, as you see

I have God, therefore I have courage,

So it is the monsters who fear me.


I love taking my nightly strolls

Beneath the sea of stars

Savoring the joys of the dark

That I wish I could save for later in jars.


I wish to keep some of the night’s songs

And the stars glimmering tucked away

So that even after the moon vanishes

I can enjoy the night in the day.


But such things cannot be

Though I wish it could,

So when the sun rises from its slumber

I will go back home and sleep, as I should.


But when I awaken,

And the sun has set like before,

I will journey out into the darkness

And enjoy the night once more.

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