March 27, 2009
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The army of tin soldiers
Dance upon the roof
Making a peaceful meditation,
A calm lullaby.
It gathers into small puddles,
Welcoming yellow rain boots in.
The clouds come in
From Heaven’s chimney
Making day constant twilight.
The streets
Are peaceful.
Headlights become faint beams,
Streetlights are now soft flames
Flickering on into the night,
Forming a makeshift moon
In my bedroom,
As I fall asleep to the army
Of tin soldiers.

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