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Abby Bacher Jun 2013
Strong, hefty dynamics with a crescendo-ing beginning
Living as though you could fly
You try your hardest
Finally, the melody accompanied by such bewildering brass
Making you believe in human flight
Of the mind
The soul
And the mentality of each body
The andante section arrives with light and graceful woodwinds
Creating softer atmospheric winds
Suddenly, you start to fly
Spiritually,  mentally
There are accidentals
There  is cut time
Running eighth notes in the woodwinds give you the energy
The  energy to do whatever you want
Even to conquer the skies
Abby Bacher Jun 2013
Defined August, it fades away in a haze
Quickly, running through seasons.
We're suddenly hit by a wave of sore cold
Just enough to show ripen blood upon frozen skin
Without one wearing fine cloth against iced flesh.
One day should you forget in a rush
Or maybe your feet have dragged on too long by then
Of what winter really means
Should you be cursed by Jack Frost?
He does not nip lightly for you
Nor does he for anyone of the sort
Possibly, one could befriend such a harsh element
From summer heat to bleak winter
The seasons change too fast for average beings
Though maybe you could obtain the tie to a blizzard
So when you ask it,
it shall respond.
In which your response should be glee
As for once, it has listened and watched over you.

— The End —