Monday, January 2, 2012

Dec 30, 2011

Swings bring a sense that I could fly.
Tonight the stars are bright
and the park is saturated with the sounds
from creaking branches swaying in the wind.
I see the little dipper and Polaris beneath Cassiopeia
small clouds are tearing into swirls
hauling with the speed of a fleet of ghost ships
 lonely vessa on the swing
 a ragamuffin getting ready 
to take flight 

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