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| jo'b. |
Hilltop where the fields are not sprayed
where sheep graze and swallows weave
where the wind blows and neighbors wave
where children run and laugh in the winrows
and know a kestral by its hover
where sometimes near sunset
there's not another human sound
but your own heart clenching
and the hum of the universe in your head
and there's peace on earth
peace on earth
and you wish it could last.
