She imagines,
images of sound,
still leaves,
are growing still,
a rustling kinda hush,
as she holds and hushes her breath,
she imagines,
images of light,
from twinkling stars,
so very far,
as far and away,
as she feels,
so small and alone,
under a sky so vastly large,
as she travels along on,
this slowly winding,
lonely road.
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