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We search for Pisces, the fish
In a March night sky
As clear as it’s ever been

What’s thirty years
What’s sixty years
When so much of us
Is still ten, sixteen, twenty
Our context grows more beautiful
Season over season

We don’t find Pisces
We don’t know where to look
But it’s there
Somewhere right before us
Nestled in the constellations
We’ve yet to learn

Year over year
Life expands, beautiful
All there is to search for
Waiting for us

With Love,
Natalie