Would the wind might lift me up
And teach me all its unlearned skills --
Whistling down the city streets,
Curling in the blanket's pleats,
Unaware of wide or narrow,
Raw unto some worldly marrow,
Uncomplaining in its death,
Unsurprised by one small breath...
Would the wind might lift me up,
Embrace me in its bubbling rills,
And teach the unforgotten skills.
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