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There was a summer squall in my hometown
So I decided to take off.
I rose through the cumulonimbus,
The thunderheads, the anvils;
A fork of hissing lighting came within inches of my face.
As I broke through the cloud barrier
I glimpsed the orange light of late
Afternoon;
Thunder still complained below me,
Staging a boycott, a protest against persistence.
I leaned forward,
Soaring until I left the aggressive clouds
Behind and was given sunny fields
And rolling hills instead.
I was racing now.
Above the troposphere,
There were no sirens to bother me,
No car horns to scream.
I spun awhile,
Thinking reality was overrated, really.
Lights were winking on beneath me as the sun sped west.
I followed le soleil for a spell,
Staying in line with the shadow and the light,
On the border—a neutral party.
Eventually I stopped and let the night overtake me,
Hovering and waving goodbye to the day.
Then I backpedaled,
A unicyclist on a New York street,
And gazed at the millions of diamond specks
Spread like a fallen chandelier below me.
Dog Star, North Star, Orion were my companions.
For them it was routine.
But I—I had never seen such a beautiful sight in all my life…




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