February 14, 2008
By Matt Stensland-Bos, Luverne, MN

The short way home was blocked last night,
So there I found the feet for flight.
Rising up above the trees,
I whispered, “Heaven lift me, please.”

Ascending up to the ozone layer,
I silently uttered a short, sweet prayer.
One to say what love can do,
And one to say I care about you.

As the sky lifts from around,
I’m left standing on the ground.
Walking now up to my door,
I’m strangely empty, wanting more.

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