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Apr 2017
A small soft smoke around it like a whisper,
Curling and swirling,
Changing and forming,
Inside and outside and something again,
A floating flowing,
An endless knowing,
Forever in the falling mists of when.
And although we may glimpse it,
It will be forgotten again.
But still we chase it forever.
Written by
Becky Hanney
180
 
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