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LIVING ON A MOUNTAIN

I can see mountains from my window. They’re like a painting dusted with peaches and purples. It’s late in the day, and I can hear the wind whooshing as the clouds move swiftly by. As the sun descends, the mountain…

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AT REST

I love what You’ve made
Every creature I see
The tan, furry face
The content, buzzing bee

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SNOW

It is icy up here
And the night has been long
I haven’t heard cheer
Or the little bird’s song

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