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Beneath  
the stars, our home  
Secluded, small, serene  
We laughed and danced on creaky boards  
Before  
 stirrings of ill health crept, we prayed  
 between Christmas and June.  
 She left; we, left  
 alone.
Author's Note
this is for the competition 42 syllables; Butterfly Cinquain.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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