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Angels of the Cornfield with Ms. Anne-May and I
Dust flew from crisp corn stalks as she fell to beaten knees
She raised her callus stricken hands towards the heavens
Painfully smiling due to a sunburned soul and age
Angels sung hymns while gently playing strings of the winds tranquil zephyrs
God whispered in her ear as she wept gratified tears
I finally understand
In memory of my Ms. Anne-May.
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