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The Flower Man
Always grinning brings me joy,
yet still no words exchanged for more,
every week I wait for you,
wondering which bouquet I will choose,
wrapped in paper for love,
grasping sun from up above,
as I always drive by,
your stand still catches my eye,
hoping for fields to grow,
only when the sunlight shows,
every week I look forward to you,
just thinking about the bouquet I will choose
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This piece is about the man who sells flowers at the farmers market in Shelbyville every Saturday morning.