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Aaron Mark
Poems
Jun 2014
Children
The sky is sleepy and grey.
An orchestra tunes its long,
wet strings of drizzle.
The trees are restless children
enduring a long sermon of wind,
waiting to be dismissed into a
breathe of fresh sun.
Are we not all children
waiting to be dismissed?
Written by
Aaron Mark
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Nanna Harrow Haley Y
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