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A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun rays
One moment they were there and we were having funNow they've disappeared, every single one.I don't know where to go and I'm feeling rather scared
Her pockets are never empty.
She says pockets are for running.
So she keeps them full,
Stuffs universes into them,
And says it is just the essentials.
From Things You Find in a Poet's Beard by A.F. Harrold
If you open up my skull
You won’t see a brain in there,
underneath the skin and bone
All you see is outside me: my painted smile,the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me
I remembered how I used to play with my mum.
As a kid, in the kitchen, we would bake together.
Time travel me back.
Let me say goodbye again.
A minute more,
a chance to see Ed’s face
Tomorrow has your name on itIt's written up there in the skyAs you set out on a journeyin search of the How? and the Why?
What do we do with a difference?Do we stand and discuss its oddityor do we ignore it?
Do we shut our eyes to itor poke it with a stick?Do we clobber it to death?