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Jan 2019
Aloft high
There is a
Scrying wind,
Brushing up
And under
The leaves and
Stirring pines
Of the woods,
Acacias,
Tall oaks, shrubs,
Bleeding out
The softer,
More quiet place,
Like an old
Person's home,
Aloft high
Below them.
The slow goodbye.
Lewis Hyden
Written by
Lewis Hyden  18/M/London, UK
(18/M/London, UK)   
159
   Jade and Elizabeth J
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