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In the old stories, if you whistled,
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Here’s the window. It hurts to turn away.
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Each moment of time is a mountain.
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i am running into a new year
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Always too eager for the future, we
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sitting in a garden
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Perhaps life is nothing more than swift solar orbits, or dual
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We are learning to control our thoughts,
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If I’m the sun, then people I love
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be vigilant—when the light on the mountains gives the sign—arise and go
