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Description
There are places to walk in the wild wood, where ancient black walnut trees bow over a pleasant ridge road, and where the winter prelude to silent snows is as welcome a cover as the sod quilt of spring. Travel with these poems through hard times and sweet, a wind crow as your guide, where nostalgia is as thick as candle wax on your fingers as you turn these pages slowly.
There are places to walk in the wild wood, where ancient black walnut trees bow over a pleasant ridge road, and where the winter prelude to silent snows is as welcome a cover as the sod quilt of spring. Travel with these poems through hard times and sweet, a wind crow as your guide, where nostalgia is as thick as candle wax on your fingers as you turn these pages slowly.
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