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May 2016
white winged water walker
filled my dreamy head
sliding, gliding on shimmering glass
far from my land locked bed

once a child and filled with awe
my visions shamelessly bold
a water walker I would be
and straw could turn to gold

but spinning orbs wash one with age
and weight one's wings with years
flights of endless prowess
are grounded by groundless fears

yet when blind night blocks the light
and one's mind is free to explore
childhood's chirping vision
is again allowed to soar
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