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Dec 2013
It was winter then, pulling back the covers of dream
to sleep, cold occluded clouds to lift
and wake me, a bird flying by
feathers downy fly,
drift, softly
as the
sky

In dreams
beyond stars, night
can but
only
die
CA Guilfoyle
Written by
CA Guilfoyle  F/Portland, OR -Tucson, AZ
(F/Portland, OR -Tucson, AZ)   
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