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Jun 2010
One
The pebbles whisper,
Foretelling my coming.
Bubbles ripple,
The water more,
Than my feet,
As they descend.
It grows used,
To my intrusion,
The Earth.
It’s calloused,
It bleeds no more,
From my presence,
I am part,
Of the earth
Composed of it.
Though the trees watch,
Untrusting,
They let me pass,
Into their heart.
Maybe they
Will love me now,
Tell me their secrets,
Share their knowledge,
Teach me to speak,
Make me,
One
all rights reserved
Written by
Gabrielle Hamberger
653
 
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