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…antasy drifts away, cold abstraction follows. Clouds lose their faces and cease looking down on us, while the wind whistling myths through caverns deep, whistles alone. Gone are the fell voices on the air, the enchanted ones that bid the Wanderer not …
Hayden Moore
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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Intimations of soul - have I got that right?
J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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