IFONLY
tid sah (Tom Atlee), 1969
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of frost-pursed acres the fern-cracked woods in the sun now silver hiding in the northern bakery of cold whirling toward the fern-cracked woods in the sun now silver caging the sealed sins for the new comers who rub the pharaohs crystals into cones placing by that sepulchre their seed-omega offering among the tarnished rocks and lips of bone in the moss a fern |