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Near the Beaver River's End

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Wild it turns on weak limbs severed

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Crows cawing at break of dawn

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Things from her condo

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Moving On

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Buds on branches poised to flower

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The autumn leaf screams before it falls

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Sort out the legacy

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Let the vents blow warmth

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Let the vents blow warmth!

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When I lie, I feel I'll die

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