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sisters crow the world is not real any more sister crow flies along the track gravel now once tarmac with her siblings there is no wind nothing moves the sisters crow march the track in a line across the dirt where no-one else is all that is written was written before they link bird arms begin to sing without words of what was before the roads were broken there is nothing to touch any more sister crow guided by the splintered poles as old as always she and her sisters watch the world set