You Are: A Poem
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… a sunrise in some equatorial sea,
a well-farmed grassland, grown to seed again,
the forest wind that whispers shy to me,
a letter that starts out “Remember when…”,
the blood that stammers through my finger-tips,
a well-made imitation diamond ring,
the breeze that bites my nose with little nips,
the first fat robin of returning spring.
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