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Wednesday, March 25, 2015

people are planes

to survive on meltwater
without a pinch of salt,
to float in the wind
drifting across the sky,

to have no roots,
to shed all leaves,
the flowers brown 
and withered on the soil

to fall and not to fall,
it means the gift of walking
on melting stilts
across rivers and lakes

but remembering wings
we all can fly.
the earth is filled
with dreams and people

who are planes, helicopters,
wasps, bees, birds.
i see them, come and see
how they chase the clouds




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