Nestled in the deep breathing green

Like the egg of the runner duck

In the heath, yet safe 

From the fox and the weasel, and 

Removed from the nearby oaks,

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You stand in your stoic glory,

Cloaked by the earthsmoke,

Water lovingly relinquished

For the sake of the mystery,

Like the stories hidden in the 

Ground beneath your unmoving feet. 

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I will come back to you.

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