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Quintessensual
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Yes, a Nomad
Yes, this must be a nomad, it must be,
at last unhinged, at last, hustling fast,
rustling as autumnal leaves to next spring,
or some spring, are roots of tall, waving grass.
Go be a nomad, go, and hibernate,
when snow comes to cover and you must rest;
yet lay not still until the high wind slows,
too much, and the grass blooms its soft sweetest.
with spring garland
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