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Lin Zhao
The four winds blow us children
Who do not run before the storm
Woven delicate as spider’s web
From all the elements of stars
They catch the monster of the age
It’s thorny shaft hard anchored
And hurl themselves full on it
To kill it by the drip of blood
By the sand of dragging time
And the sparks of smouldering hope
That rare and precious blood ignites
poem
by
Jim Hogg
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