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Selection 8 of
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Aloft, Awayby Nancy ClarkIt will be a windy day And I shall make my way outside My house, depart those walls that held The winds away, while I, untouched, Might spread jam on my homemade bread, Let bright, hot water soak my skin, Might laugh and sip my tea, then drunk With comfort, slip to games and dreams. That day I'll stand full in the blow In wind of heft and heavy breath And watch the treetop branches toss Like leafy arms in motion, waving Both in greeting and goodbye. That wind will rough my hair and brush My eyes and I'll breathe in, breathe in As if to fill my single sail. When it is time for me to go As to a pillow, I'll recline On one gust missioned just for me, Be lifted on a buoyant bed Of air, borne lightly on and flanked With dancing leaves of autumned oak, And trailing shreds of gravity I shall be swept aloft, away. |
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Selection 8 of
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