What does the breeze of this autumn night think?
Where does she pause, when does she move?
As she touches the bark of the ancient pine, what does she carry, what does she leave behind?
The mysteries of her are many.
One is here.
What does the breeze of this autumn night think?
Where does she pause, when does she move?
As she touches the bark of the ancient pine, what does she carry, what does she leave behind?
The mysteries of her are many.
One is here.
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Moonwater 