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rememberedhome

of knowing
this familiar come
the scent of almost gone
tracks across
the snow –
my yesterdays

are laced in mud –
souvenirs
of every dream restarted
the path to home
with hands to hold
– always

where
was I forgotten –
the feel of woolen sleeves
woodsmoke
curled
around my heart
just so

cedar fills
an ancient need –
stirring words to will
leaves are opened
letters
letting go

. . .

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