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Friday, August 30, 2013

POETRY: MEDLEY

Gray morn, grassy fields
Leafy trees with ferns below
All turn to face dawn

*

A lone figure stands
Calm atop a sloping hill
Watch the world burn

*

Every night's the same
Fearful of coming horrors
Oh what dreams may come

*     *     *

   These are pieces about my recent dreams.

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