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the deepest hurt
of all these hurts
come to make me poor
a servant to some other might have been
walked with you
a hundred miles –
i never thought to go
neglecting every
tearful sweet amen
the sweetest night
i can recall
was resting in your arms
listened as your heart
played songs
i knew
as every one
had written me
can you hear
the way the drums are pounding
the way the cedars sway
when i tell you
they will steal your breath

. . .