i really like the light and weather streaking through this one. the white picket fence sounds like a smile, and i have to forcibly exercise mine sometimes to try to avoid having my face settled into a perma-scowl. do too many ice cream dreams lead to tooth decay? i like that the first stanza draws me back immediately from the end, and puts my mind into a state of rebellion against the idea that this is lost... it seems to echo after the end of the poem. i had a dream of willfully flying up and down along the hilltops the other night that gives me hope of eternal freedom.
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