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| Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep I am a thousand winds that blow I am the diamond glints on snow I am the sunlight on ripened grain I am the gentle Autumn's rain When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there... I did not die. Mary .E. Frye 1932 |
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| With Thanks!!!! |
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| Page designed by Maya |
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