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The Wind
The wind lays above my head
a silent sound hushed
as if I'm the only one on earth
it brushes my feet and head past my shoulders and neck
soft and quiet scared to move around
finally, it flies off upon a bird flying north high in the clouds
when it leaves I hear it calling my name
soft, scared, and mysterious

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I wrote this poem on May 21, 2015, but I changed up a couple of the words so it made more sense.