Just North of Here
Morning breaks beyond a ridge
so far from this ol' home,
Wood-fire stores the morning's heat
under a hearth of stone.
Cattle stir upon the hill
still covered by the frost,
They look o'er the valley low
at trees covered in moss.
One lone eagle glides the rim
on silent wings of steel,
Rides upon the unseen winds
searching for his next meal.
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