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Sep 2014
Wily white meadow--
Bridles her name- silently
And--
Caribou hold their tears.


Roots promise with midst-
To miss her--
So cantaloupe may be-
In-every-second.

We aren't in lilac and lily.
But my paws are padded
Told-telling--



I walk.
L T Winter
Written by
L T Winter  M/United Kingdom
(M/United Kingdom)   
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