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slow me
 butterflies
who lived to love
the trees of mexicali –
are floating now
the appalachian trail

stronger winds
are blowing
northern candles west –
as southern nights
 are pushed against
the dawn

rivers rush
beyond their fame
black the velvet feathers
are found beyond
the memories of stone

twilight winks
 above the tides
where once a culture crumbled
sands are set
again
by ancient hands

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