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July 15th, 2013

Thank you to bardcat

Yehuda Amicha
The Place Where We Are Right

From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the Spring.

The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.

But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole, a plough.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
where the ruined
house once stood.
Traveling on Grace Street... - Birdsong

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bobby1933
bobby1933

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