Hudson
Woven Saddle
Down in the valley I take my leaveI bid farewell to the only place I've livedA golden blanket of fallen leavesClears my mind of all the things I didA loaf of bread, my trusted steedA woven saddle mother made for meThe months ahead will bring their shareOf troubled timesWeeks gone by; rations have run dryA groaning in the bottom of myBelly cries out forSomething which I have no moreIn my famished timeI spot a lamplightStumble upon a pathOf friendly folk at last
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