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A poet sun this morning,
this light that turns
                           bare trees baroque.
In rotation with November,
the harvest safely in,
                            faith is a sure thing.
Earth wears the sun
                 like a hat that says Imagine.
Some will say we’re dreamers;
 maybe they are right,            
We create our own reality
                    when we believe in peace.
It’s easy to see the world as one
in the hush of early morning
                             with a liturgy of sun.

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