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In Kabul and Kobe it will be dark now, soon perhaps the snow owl will come.
Outside of my mind’s window it feels as if it is high noon,but
Fin Jour, in my dacha, I will cook myself some sort of meal and all the while
the tenantable heart will think only of you.
Home is where the heart is and blessed is the one who recognizes
how much space the heart contains.
In mine there will forever be, the very largest place for you.
On a branch above, you know I am watching you.
( copyright 2017 twicemodern)