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Mistwalker
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A mistwalker is riding
Over roads and rivers
On his vapor horse gliding
Passing heat and shivers

 

A mistwalker strides

'Cross mornings and hilltops

Just taking the path 

From vapor raindrops 

 

A mistwalker whispers 

A music of dawn 

Of droplets, of leaflets 

Of and days that begun

 

© 2026 People Call It Poetry - Mistwalker

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