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OLD SOUL

her thought lingered soft

as a down pillow pressed to

passing Cumulus;

late days September-

life weaving back

peeling away

 

 

last life reassurance

she drifts –

nearer the wisps of autumn dust

Earth;  previous bones reaped,

ready

a northwest wind echoes

rebirth

she answers

I

 

 

  

bkmackenzie

 

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