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Mighty Little Things

Mighty little things
come to lift me up.
They crawl on their bellies
wrapped in paperthin shawls,
amass around my heels and lift;
helpless and I fall,
caught, perfect, everywhere
in the dense pleasure of..
being carried, anywhere.
does the air taste the same
in the distance?

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Comments


  • RAWR-itsPurplePixie
    February 22, 2008
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    I loved the imagry in this poem... very well done