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Saturday, 4 February 2012

unmoved from time without end...

unmoved
from time without
end
you rest
there in the midst of the paths
in the midst of the winds
you rest
covered with the droppings of birds
grass growing from your feet
your head decked with the down of birds
you rest
in the midst of the winds
you wait
Aged One

(- Kenneth Lincoln, "Native American Literatures")

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