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beth fwoah dream
Poems
Aug 2019
witching hour
the stars tremor in the water,
breathe of sky and silver bird,
the night is a closed eye, a
river of frost
where the dark, born
of root and shaded dream,
stretches like a flower;
the shadows lengthen
dissolve into wooden gate
and hollowed out tree.
#loving
#you
Written by
beth fwoah dream
England
(England)
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