« Reply #59902 on: Jul 22, 2008, 09:48 AM »
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As the moon lingers a moment over the bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly, not to the music, but something else, some place else, a place remembered; a field of grass where no one seemed to have been except a deer, and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms.............
