The Parachutist (Jon Anderson Poems)
Then the air was perfect. And his descentto the white earth slowed.Fallingbecame an ability to rest--asthe released breathbelieves in life. ...
Then the air was perfect. And his descentto the white earth slowed.Fallingbecame an ability to rest--asthe released breathbelieves in life. ...
So, at last, we will cross.Our season presupposes continents, landsof desire. We tosslike unloved baggage where we stand,and slowly the ...
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