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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Ashley stands slender on a hill,
Sheltering all sorts of bright-eyed things.
He spreads his youthful arms like angel's wings,
Luring the wind to rustle through his hair.
Easily, he bends through turbulent air,
Yielding when he must, yet upright still. |
