bridges
children who do a good deed every day
adorably stretching your arms out wide
dutifully, like the little house on the prairie,
counting in silence the sheep that flock from shore to shore grazing and frolicking
your world has long left the colors of butterflies
and a light feather of sadness occasionally flies by
from a wild goose of the north journeying alone
when the busy lights on the shores go out
and the reeds and grasses on the stream fall asleep
and the night grows cool
who will throw some light clothes over you
bridges
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