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spring at last
a soft breath,
of love and light,
mixed into a soft green,
in sunlit height,
amongst the trees,
we burrow in hues,
of long dead leaves,
contrasting sky blues,
the fresh and new,
is hope again born,
from a starless winter,
where the warmth is torn,
i long again,
for the long sticky days,
when we all drifted through,
a summer haze.
1/23/2013
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