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Feb 2016
A makeshift camp of hardy souls,
the air is cold but we are free
and hold to our common causes.
Little is said. There's much quiet thought.

The crackling fire makes it all
real, fans our fellowship of feelings,
casting shadows of mysterious
creatures . The flames flay our faces red.

Limbs stiffen, ache, but only eyes move
for fear of breaking our charmed circle.
Minds are moving fast over unknown
futures, over people from the past.
Written by
Tony Luxton  Runcorn
(Runcorn)   
2.1k
   ---, DivineDao and SPT
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