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“Once, I took the penny whistle you gave me and discovered a spot by the roaring falls where I could play as loud as I wanted. I lay in the bifurcated trunk of a low-slung birch tree. The sun peeked through applauding leaves, high overhead.” — Kristen Henderson, Of My Maiden Smoking
Once, I took the penny whistle
you gave me and discovered a spot
by the roaring falls where I could play
as loud as I wanted.
I lay in the bifurcated trunk
of a low-slung birch tree. The sun peeked
through applauding leaves, high overhead.