the harrow

Spinster Of The Wood

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© 2004 Shannon Taylor Lasley
All rights reserved.

I've been down this path before,
Thick as it is with brambles and roots,
And somewhere along the way
The pining gave way to gnarled oak,
And the salty tears turned to rusted blood;
There is a cottage down the lane
Where shadows laugh and chill the bone,
But there's a brew in the kettle
If you hunger, if you thirst—
If you still long to see the willow
Who will never weep again.

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