| An offering here in my winter coat
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| Touch my face and point me home
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| The ropes of time tangle the threads of hope
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| Where I throw my birds, dare I watch them go
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| I think I’ll come apart, how deep they leave their mark
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| Like the leaves of the shady tree
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| Wishes turn down inside of me
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| And wake me here on this foreign shore
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| Trembling that I run so far
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| Before a boat departs, how deep it leaves its mark
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| Let me speak what your heart can see
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| Roll and gather and open me
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| In my whispering and my crying out
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| Like dancers turning in light and dark
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| Here on my weighted heart, how deep they leave their mark
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| And here in my winter coat
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| How you pretend there’s something that you don’t know
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| In the stillness down where a blackbird sings
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| Its song of nothing and everything
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| The counting stops and starts. |
| How deep it leaves its mark |