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I fancy magic birds
And put them in cages
I catch butterflies
And write them in pages
Words are not my image
Nothing can enmesh
In line or flesh
All that is in me
I break all bars
I pluck the stars
From dark heavens
And create new illusions
A little god
Never still
Lifted by my will
My spirit flies
A restless eagle
Seeking peace in ascent
In ethereal song
Of new horizons
Published © August 1993
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