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Jun 2016
Stretched for miles was a meadow of yellow buttercups standing three feet tall
all their petals open to full throttle like propellors on an old airplane ready for take off
in an airfield looking for pilots to sail them to the heavens speaking in a language only
the wind could understand as it blew soft amongst their wings looking to achieve
terminal velocity while the drone of their engines filtered my senses as we took off to the skies
Harriet Cleve
Written by
Harriet Cleve
     Glass, Ovi-Odiete, PoetryJournal, Eudora, --- and 3 others
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