Wind over lake.
Swing out sister
on a farm
we share sincerity
weaving womanly spells
in crystals
for King Job.
We share gnomes
I am your angel
Face north
look on water
we there unite
Bring home brothers and sisters
feed their senses
on a cold clear night,
Black, Brown, Green, White.
Little sister
we planted a tree.
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I haven't thought of this poem in years, but as I read those first words, it felt like home...
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