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Paper Wings Michael H. Hanson


I soar upon the very dreams And errant wisps of daily pause That mark the breadth and boundary Of my imagination’s cause. I dip and glide amidst the shapes Of all my favored darling days, Inhabiting this bright landscape Enrapt within its loving gaze. ‘Til tripping I begin my fall And fading muses sadly sing That I am just a simple soul With feet of clay and paper wings.


W PAGE 31 ∙ Year I ∙ Issue #1


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