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Amanda

Twilight at dawn And shawls of redemption Six quarts of Holy Water Amanda is sane, Free and bright And the best of all worlds Not afraid to be wronged By an angel At midrise Though bested by noon No telling, Of heavenschance And off to Saint Peter of Chase By Kennebecasis To not be alone On beach day or in prose To the phone that weeps For her endurance became Exaltation Of the wind That carries her home