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Your Heart Will Mend

The day we brought you home
There was a storm.
The sky grew black as night, thunder shook,
Like pages in a ghostly horror book.
You and your mother slept upstairs, safe and warm.

The branches on the tree beat up and down,
Like some mad clumsy bird to leave the ground.
It’s leaves like feathers fluttered in the air,
Or gypsy curses in some long nightmare.

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