december's cool air strokes my face,
sends my brown hair flying-
obstructs my vision
for a little while
wind wakes up all who walk;
truth tends to rise up from feet
which move-- finally reaching mind;
currents, like cattails can hardly believe
this is happening to me--
alive to breath of joy;
viewing the changing clouds,
light jutting more angularly
through clouds, fondant candy
whipped &damp; spun sugar flying-
head in the sweet clouds of change,
feet keep beating the cadence
Kate Lamberg
11/30/11
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