January 20, 2010
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One by one they lift and ride the gentle breeze
Diving and twining
Frail tissues rise in the currents
They fold and tuck
The dainty tissue folded by the gale
Turn to doves and fly away
The memory of feathers is fading so soon
White birds fly into blanche clouds
All that’s left is a brilliant blue sky with clouds already blowing away

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