Dewy freedom

Morning wings play with sun’s rays,

dipping wildly over corn fields

and swooshing to the stream

where tails and tongues lap at dawn.

.

If a moment can be summer

and if a heart can answer to wind,

mine is held captive by small things

like moss on rock and weed behind tree.

.

Voices of reason do not count

when dew sparkles in morning sun

and it is enough to feel free

without knowing why.

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