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Dust From Her Feet
She walks like a traveller in her home
a once familiar thing, lost to her
And bright-eyed watches the same night sky
that demonstrates new things to her,
orchestrating new patterns for her in the stars to find
and paving beams of light across leaves
that were strewn for her
by the dawn wind slaking the limbs of her own trees
for whatever thing lost that still is,
She searches the dust from her own feet
that she's brought from another land in a dream
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