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Her Song She writes country music by candlelight. Her sleeping baby stirs in the sunshine of his dream. She puts another log in the fireplace and glances at a February calendar she knows by heart. Her song will someday live in a honky- tonk jukebox. Its minor strains will reach the hearts of people love broke. It will teach them its hard lessons. Tears will flow down neon-blushed cheeks. In the midnight shadows, she whisper-sings her song to her sleeping child, slowly, letting each word feel at home on her tongue, before she gives it as a gift-- to the child, who will remember it when he is old-- and to the stars. |
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