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Dear Friends,


Welcome to A Little Grey Matter, matter which has be misplaced elsewhere:
 
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The Theft of the Brussel Sprout Field

It was gone, not even picked clean,
But gone, where the field lay
Crimped in between and downright mean,
The old Brussel Sprouts’ bay.
We held a party and dreamt of asparagus. 
 

 (Poem by Persephone Abbott)







Photo: www.vinitasalome.com

 

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