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Station 297: Haiku Collection 17

Brisk, verdant, wooden
Whistling song of mountains
Harken, thousand cries

Fresh wafting layers
Baked through years of attention
Harken, thousand hours

Rain and thunder pours
On all, a journey through shroud
Harken, thousand beads

Word of the daring
Gone, lost, never to return
Harken, thousand tales

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