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Another gateway beckons
Riding into misty winter
With the tattered crows
Calling
There's a darkness caught
On my moorland oak
It's flying in the breeze
Like a witches rags
And I fly to the light
Of long winter nights
With a lovely raven
Flying with me
In all her darkness shining.
I feel the absence
of the skylarks song
And know that the music
Is in my heart
Lost and found,
All the work of spring and summer
Is underground
Gorse-gold is my joy.

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