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remember a time
when the trees were so tall.
and I would sit there on those quiet summer days,
the kinds where the clouds drifted lazily by so slowly - -
they didn't have to wait for any one.
days when the breeze would catch the tones
of the rustling reeds and
carry the crickets chirp and swallows twitter.
the sun sat up on his pedastal
looking proudly down upon where I lay
and smiled as I smiled back so happy.
I would look up and spy the branches of the pines
stretching their fingertips up to the blue
until they appeared to fade into the vast shapelessness
of the sky.
The grass would tickle my bare legs and toes
as the warmth and brilliance of that day would swallow me up.
I thought I'd be happy for the rest of my life,
like the smiling sun,
the tall trees
and the billowing sleepy clouds in their bright blue.
I remember those days and now sometimes
when I'm tired or lonesome or out on
a good glad day,
I'll dig my toes into the ground like the grass,
and sing my songs like the breeze
and flow like clouds
and grin like the sun
as I stretch my hands into the air like the trees
all for the blue