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Hannah Sobel Nov 2012
The earth is cold, but the night is warm.
She lays her head down
And the grass surrounds her.

Softly, sweetly.

She smiles and shuts her eyes
The crickets begin their song
And the stars blackness engulfs her.

Softly, sweetly.

A shadow passes the moon.
She knows it is an angel,
And the night-song sings her to sleep.

Softly, sweetly.

— The End —