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- Katherine Marker
- Nov 25, 2024
- 1 min read
Pines spring forth from the Land of the Living Skies.
Flat, soft beds of grass support my feet.
The cool dew clings to my flesh, the chill setting in.
Smoke lingers in the air.
The sunlight echoes across the sea of glass.
My children arise in laughter.
I want to go home.

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