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i heard the wind all day
be in me as the eternal moods
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
rocked in the cradle of the deep
leave the lovely words unsaid
like eagles on up high
take my bracelets
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
sun stepped down from his golden throne
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
my son is dead and i am going blind
storm
old wine to drink

 



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