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ghost of the cherokee |
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We used to run the summer woods hidden behind the neighborhood |
we climbed the back of Turtle Rock to get a glimpse of the redtailed hawk |
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Shifting light you could see the ghost of the cherokee |
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We crawled
on bellies
through the
mountain
laurel
tossing
rocks
off the
waterfall |
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Past that
bridge
that had
broken
down
where that
young girl
long ago
had drowned |
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| Shifting light . . . | |||
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We told stories in the limestone cave of yellow fever and the runaway slave |
The sun was slanting in the sky we knew nothing ever really die |
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| Shifting light . . . | |||
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© copyright 2003 Phoebe Claire Publishing, LLC All Rights Reserved |
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