hay

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A dry pile of hay Horses chew with their strong jaws Breaking so much wind
On the lofty, grassy hill I stand Facing toward the eastern dawning light Slowly rising, lighting the damp land Silence broken by the fowl of no flight
  On the lofty, grassy hill I stand Facing toward the eastern dawning light Slowly rising, lighting the damp land Silence broken by the fowl of no flight
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