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Old Shore Path

 

 

I want to walk a woodland path

That haunts a graceful shore,

A path that lingers like the wraith

Of those who walked before.

I want to follow it and hear

The music improvised

By moody winds that sing the song

Of time, unrealized.

And oh, to glimpse through needled boughs

The thing my spirit craves,

Water, close and unaware,

Preoccupied with waves.

 

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