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The Year, Kindly Passed

arrow left Anticipated, this day, these hours.
Blue shadows on silver snow sail silently and dissolve
to reappear Below, whole-hearted, hungry for talk.
Ribbons of memory unfurl
you to you to you
to you.
Sweet bindings.
The winds blow safe our voyage home,
our sound rings the chamber,
and every candle lit flickers with the fire of our secret-knowing
and reunion.

by Carole W
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