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The Child’s Eyes

I am a dreamer. 
I am indeed 
said Gandhi, I agree  

there I go again, I
float another one, 
cloudy skies low-hung
I go among

nimbus shaping things,
flung out in smoky rings
open-country offspring
on the puff, they zing

suspend aloft, nebulous
they are calm, lazy elephants
dissolving into ash,
like floating trash

it happens when I forget
to capture them 'fore they flit 
past the child's eyes inside, 
it's how they die




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