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Nov 2014
The whippoorwhil
endlessly chants her rhythm:
into boughs of leaves  
making the pecan trees sway,
begins the dancing-
on the wind:
playing a faint flute,
clapping doves, sit and watch and coo,
all this gaiety to do:
this wind song is beautiful,
I think of you.
wordvango
Written by
wordvango
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