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Jun 2013
The curve of the horizon gently pulled eyes along it,
the dim sunlight and shadows changed slowly each minute,
the flock of many black birds twisted and turned, mute,
in the distance.

Trees and shrubs waved and the wind whipped up
the excitement at the instant that the clouds stepped
aside, the light blue sky with golden streams, wept,
you were home.
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
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