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Forgotten Things
We went through woods to find
Our pleasantries of mind;
We lovers of forgotten things.
There nestled in the wild,
Sat picket fence and fig.
And on a dancing twig,
A boy found a dragonfly.
Others hovered nearby,
But this one did not fly
When gently he stroked its wings.
Oh the joy that summer brings;
To touch a dragonfly
In a place long untouched by child.
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