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These ravens with their black shadows were perched on a water log. Under the blue night- all five in a row, they were singing.
These ravens outside of myself. These ravens, I've heard stories about them,
caught the reflection of their blackberry eyes under the silver moon on the silver water.
These ravens, why do they sing for me when ravens do not sing?
MARINA GIPPS
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, March 03, 2006 |
| Submitted Date |
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Tuesday, July 10, 2007 |
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