The morning comes in feathers,
As arrives Emily Dickinson with dreamy layers,
The morning comes with the Sun
From behind the clouds sending warmth,
The morning comes with flags festive trembling quiet,
And wonderment sketching words drenched by light.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
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The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
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