Dance
If the stars embrace
their untapp'd sorrow, dare grief,
they would become wise.
Homage
Authenticity
clambers in the chill midnight,
spiked fence overcome,
embracing dust and
memory beyond time's grief:
Imperishable.
Bethberry
[ February 22, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
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