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General - Three


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Poem Number 961
With canoed feet he traversed the heaving waters
Dragging house and home to higher mountain grounds
Leaving behind the sad past and the lass with the daughters
prefering drifting snowflakes to the roiling depths profound
The wrinkles across his brow writ like snaking valley coils
befuddled, sluggish and amazed amid fresh, snowy mounds


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