I feel that the air is light.
People around me have second sight.
Leaves pass away, as the air turns cold.
I think of a time where I was eight years old.
Baptism mingles with my date of birth.
I move closer to feel my worth.
Kindness is felt in many a cluster.
To feel the light courage I must muster.
One day I will marry, but today I study. There are things that hang in the air. I feel cloudy with a chance of rain. I am scared to get out there again New traditions dangle their posibillities in my face. My countanace is firm, but plain. I know what and who I know. Sometimes I feel like it is hard to grow. Being the creature that I am, it is hard to take your hand. Baskets sit around my feet. I fill them with bundles of twine to knit a design. If I said something wrong, I am so sorry. It is just hard to be a drone when I am so all alone. I have courtesy, but the toys break when people play with me. Light signals a passing and I will jump for joy when the Almighty takes my hand and leads me to the Sea of Galilee.
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