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ORACLE POEM

In the seventh month fire dances. Flame bakes the sky. Second month is for winter clothes. Each month brings something. The months revolve like wheels, Turning  through cold days and hot. Who knows what direction? Consult the stalks. Elemental words, auspicious springs. We are spinning, Spinning with this world.
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Written by
michael-greene
American
Published
Oct 5, 2012
Lines·Words
11·49
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