Tuesday, November 16, 2010

A Quiet Rumpus

I will wear the sun
Ancient light through these woods, 
Woods that I walk through alone
I will take my rest 
With all creatures who dwell,
Under the smallest of green
I'll remain no more than is required of me
Until the spirit is gone
I will long to see all that waits to be known
And all that will never be known 

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