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In this still, brown domain,
A host of tough kin softly lay.
Hard armor, a mark of mythic road
Out in sun's day.
A chill of said forms,
Known in human's own,
Draws a wild, odd kinship,
A warmth found in curious hold.
Oh, thin wall of human and hard coat,
What spot for comfort's odd law
Asks a bond so far,
In living's soft, warm trap. 1 reply
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