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Carry A Song

I felt the urge to carry a song to the top of a mountain. It was between a valley I climbed, as I felt the touched of shadow's palm. As the shadow led me to a pine tree with rungs of ladder hung.

Climbing the ladder, a pine cone became my beacon to a tree house. In this house was a rocking chair, a sewing basket, and Bible. Opening the cover and between pages, I found a negative of my mother. On closer examination, mom had wings and I heard her sing. "Sometimes the gift of love, is a mountain."



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