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James Geehring

Small Gifts

The barometer is dropping, skies filled with scudding clouds Which gather into towers, bottoms dark as funeral shrouds Winds, that once were calm, now cause

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James Geehring


I lay down on a sun warmed patch of grass upon a hill, And looking up to cloud-flecked blue, it seemed that time stood still.

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Allison Grayhurst


To trade these hands For a house in the forest, landed On a hill above any risk of flood, but near A flowing stream,  

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