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All That's LeftAlong the never-ending iron that lay,
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Living, the small town of Whistle Stop sings
Breathing in the blessings and blowing kisses to the laments that leave
Person and person, equal in spirit
Was different only in outer garment
On skin pale and browned by sun
This is not right, what they do to you.
Earth-- churning honey in the hands of the cosmos
For as it turns, nothing is still.
86, the age of the woman that lay
Years, like dust that scatters in the autumn wind
And with that final grain, she goes.
This was her life
Is- her life.
All but memories just faintly grasped.
That is that.
Left behind, a woman in tears,
And just a shoe box full of old papers.
. ~Ariel~ .