Time as PassingA Poem by Anne HillVast and far the valleys roll in my mind A chart, a map, I need none Music in the wind, stories in the trees This is my land, your land, our land It’s alive in mind, spirit, memory I know not what it is this feeling of bliss Hair down, feet moving, hands cold I close my eyes and let time pass Slowly time creating history The trees collecting stories The wind collecting songs
© 2008 Anne HillAuthor's Note
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Added on February 13, 2008 AuthorAnne HillNantucket, MAAboutI was raised in Pennsylvania, then I moved to the Outer Banks, then I spent two years in Vegas area going to school, then I moved to California for a couple months, then I moved back to Pa, but now I'.. more..Writing
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