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Against dark night-forces,
Ancients fell on altar-stones---
Bleeding.
Ironic those deaths
To ensure the dawn each day;
To bring back the god-Sun,
The life-giver.
Now without our help
Sol still burns.
Globe of life that we ride,
The Earth,
Turns us to night
While other shores greet the dawn.
Jane Nielson©1995
(Poetry Insert on Vellum)
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