Through the forests and the bramble
over the rivers and plains
Through the wetlands and the pristine patures with their white farm houses.
Traveling the flip book country side and back on the pavement.
I find you waiting . . .
Surrounded by everything that is not you.
Buttons , bells , tubes , floresent lights , needles , oxygen from a tank . . .
Here I stand to send you on your way , sister of my heart and mothers wing.
Lark
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