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Crossing the Country
May 1, 2008
Heaving with gusts of wing against my body,
Thinking with pain throughout my being.
Running across, dreading what’s to come,
Looking across I understand my love.
Fresh powder lies on the pine boughs,
And footprints cover the endless road.
The environment in which the pain is experienced,
Colors, sounds, animals, the whole landscape,
Makes the excruciation bearable.
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