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The Sky
The sky so little has to do -
A canvas of blues -
With only clouds covering -
And hues in the evening -
And stars at night -
The birds fly along -
And soar higher -
And higher -
And black clouds on the horizon -
And storms near -
A rarity
And a common, too -
And when night settles - after dusk
In the stars each night -
Like little snowflakes in the dark -
Or like thoughts, seeking words -
And then, at the dawn -
And the day starts over -
The sky so little has to do
I wish it had more -
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This is an imitation of the poem, The Grass, by Emily Dickinson. I wrote it during a class excercise.