blueberries and raspberries
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if i would be a snow goose, lost along this country road to north versailles trying to find a hole in the fence as to return to the flock i've wandered from, then you are the farmer's wife woken by my screams, who bends down barefoot on the frozen earth, catching me unawares and pressing my trembling body aganst your patagonia fleece, speaking your meditative blah, blah, blah, somehow calming me, until i can be set down safely on the other side where the grass is no greener.
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020328
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