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Replying to a comment on:
Shelter (Free verse) by poetandknowit Twisted trees dance windy rhythms,
dead lake below begs for run off,
hills to the west capture a storm front.
If i stay here longer i will
become part mountain,
my skin blended from the hunter,
movement silenced by the desperate
howl of pines battling to know air.
Soon snow will again fall.
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