simon-macbeth-hunterWhisper

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Autumn birdsThe bird of Spring has flown away. Long south / her feathers trail, forgetting cool wind song / and coos of happiness. And why's she wrong

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The SongstoneBut Kora sat unmoving, in great magic. / The walls, her home, faded about her. Warmth / went; all alone and on a freezing plain,

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