Poetry

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"Preseason" by tplanford
I pause at the arch that marks the entrance to the Colosseum, gazing up at the massive, ancient structure and putting a hand against the age-bleached stone, which is cool to the touch. Here I linger for a hesitant moment, casting around to ensure that I am alone. Colorful memories beckon from the Colosseum’s shadowy depths, and I follow their orders at last, stepping lightly over the threshold...

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