Sweet Grass and Sage

She passes through the sweet grass and the sage,
With heart of stone, and broken dreams.
The rising smoke, the setting sun,
The whispering breeze,
Murmur as her passion dies away.
She touches minds with one who feels such loss.
A man, though set apart, yet dwells within.
His spirit drifts beyond the clouds on high.
He can not speak, for she looks not
Upon the pallid moon above;
The same moon that he reaches from.
So she goes on, and doesn't feel
The embrace of his mourning love.
The sweet grass and the sage
She passes through,
And round and round...
And round and round,
As time goes on.

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