If the body is a shadow
Which it most certainly is
What is the light that casts it
Which must certainly be there
And where is it coming from
Though one day a year
There is no shadow
And the whole body fills with light
Often barely noticed
The light itself the shadow
Of the moving air
Driven by some fire
Who is it there forgotten
The weaving wind his token
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1 comment:
I need to to thank you for this good read!!
I definitely loved every little bit of it. I've got you bookmarked to check out new things you post…
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