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Forest could keep secretsForest could keep secrets
This morning she got upOn the happy side of the bed,Pulled backThe grey sky-curtainsAnd poked her headThrough the blue windowOf heaven,
Which can be brushed out long and fineto lie across a pillowor bunched and scrunched into an angryknot of rain before it is undone, when long hanks of it hang
The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,spreading its fingers out as if newto the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.