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Voice has died down
silent are words
thoughts retreat
all is empty now
I wore a veil,
They didn't like it,
Now they have to wear a mask,
Welcome.
1/11/2020

The old dusty path
Weather beaten roads

Lead to the farm
With an old barn

The sun shines 
with a light afternoon
breeze

Orange cosmos flowers,
grow wild in the
green hills

Silvery white, slender fragrant flowers,
bloom on the Indian cork trees

The full moon glows through the night
On the old dusty path


🌿🌿
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