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Cycle

River flows
rock is solid
hill stands still
Country turns seasons
I come – walk on land
belong to Country
I grow – listen as
voices speak and fire burn
ashes scatter back on Country
I change –  age with time
river flows
hill stands strong
I pass – wind scatters my dust
Country takes me back inside
hill stands tall
rock stays solid
river flows strong.

Go to Jeanine Leane's profile to read more poems