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Payment for the Morning MAG
Lying in a field of sand
Near a small straw hut
Pickingpetals off flowers
Blooming into dragonflies
Peaceful evening, littlelight
Sun falling low
Just like my heart
Tears stream down, turn tofish
Swimming across my shoulders
I pour out my bowl of fish
And sell itoff for money
My hands, filled
With bright gold coins -
Each one arising sun.
© Anonymous
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