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Jane Goodall

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A startling shriek; unhuman, unknown,
Her hands strong by her sides.
For many nights, she’d sleep alone,
Deciphering their cries.

Her determined heart so willingly
Got lost in onyx features.
Watching e’er so chillingly
These enigmatic creatures.

In time, a hirsute hand was posed
An offering of peace.
A difference which she gladly closed
A difference soon would cease.

She had to grieve, for soon she’d leave
But her story, anon be known
For on that fateful Summer’s eve,
The seeds of liaison were sown.





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