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Parting ways

We breathe a light
that dark cities
can't get to
Bathe in rivers sweet
with moonshine.
O sweet sister
of mine
Wandering leads to
dusty trails and
ever changing signs.
Clearer minds.
There is no trepidation
in this sad long trumpet
Raw chords echo like
barrels hold the sound.
Vibrations break fresh
and we all roll on to the next
Hold mine and I'll cradle yours.
Write and read letters through fire.
We share a limitless desire
for the new garden,
and the tide is coming in.
Bless our trails and trials,
feed us off the broth of
intuition and leave sleeping
dogs to howl at their

9 Dec 09

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this is a good write, i love lines 12-20. well done :)
 — sweetmisery