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| The moonlight was stolen by shady fog tonight Do you always make promises when a breeze can borrow them for another evening’s ears? They are afraid of the dark when we are not in the meadow to sing lullabies to them I captured it later, along with the barn swallows, as I wrote in my diary while the sunshadows rocked the porch swing and the lake ripples called to me I could hear the stars crying Evening disappeared when we weren’t looking Promises are like moonlight |
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