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Amanda

Twilight at dawn
And shawls of redemption
Six quarts of Holy Water
Amanda is sane,
Free and bright
And the best of all worlds
Not afraid to be wronged
By an angel
At midrise
Though bested by noon
No telling,
Of heavenschance
And off to Saint Peter of Chase
By Kennebecasis
To not be alone
On beach day or in prose
To the phone that weeps
For her endurance became
Exaltation
Of the wind
That carries her home