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climbing hills
standing still
or at least it
felt that way
butt kicked
treats no trick
called out but
stuck in there
lingered then left
no heart theft

Comments (1)


Flute in my weathered hand
Thankful to the wind, of
early Spring
It's so young,
yet it understands

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on July 28, 2007 9:04 PM.

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