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Thursday

Clouds covering mountain

Stroking the crags with wispy fingers
Caressing troubled terrain
From deep blue, gauze now lingers
Secret the summit, dense the white refrain
Peak hidden from the sun
Much unseen
Mystery beckons me
Posted by Alexis Wood at 2:39 PM

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Office Poetry

about small things, nothings and the somethings in between

Office Poetry

about small things, nothings and the somethings in between

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Alexis Wood
Slowly Dying on campus
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