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Writing in the Night Sky


Dawn, warmth, song, listen:
the fires are burning out.
Electric night will be here
soon, covering with only
starlight.  Can you dig it?

The industrialists will ring
no more.  Barefoot children,
no more school.  Mama
educates with blossoms.
Soft intuition is spring.

Those songs we used to sing?
We must dream them again
into being, resurge beauty.

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