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Where The Hearts Are

“This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath itLeaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman”* The winding two lane cuts through the rocky Hudson Highlands; the river, in…

Sacrifice

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

I want to ski on wooden skis I want to wear wool that’s not olive drab Drinking ice cold beers and mixing high balls I’d sit in front of a fire With a curly haired blonde We will remember the…

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