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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.