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Dec 2013
the unused morning
sits pure and pretty on my window sill
calls my name, lures me
out to wet dew and warm sunlight

it asks me to walk within it
to traverse its every nook
to know the secrets it holds
in wide plains, open for those who look

look, it says
see what I have, for you
all of this is yours, if you want it

it says this as it tucks me into the morning
sends me to wakefulness with the sweetest tune

I am here, it says,
and you are here

dance with me, with wings on your feet
for I am awake, and have not felt the wind since forever
Written by
Gary Muir
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