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Crushed between mountains and ocean,
I dream of growing wings
and taking to the air.

The owl, wiser by far,
sits hidden in pine branches waiting
until the time is right.

It would take more than twenty-five lines
to tell this story, but since the ending is unknown
I will give you the abbreviated version.

The fact that it is only a dozen lines
just goes to show
how little I know about life.

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