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light through the tree leaves

the symphony of my mind was in the modernistic movement of polyphonic dissonance

(or politely, cacophony)

when i clomped down the steps in my totteringly tall shoes

(too tired to take umbrage at the thinner row of tile)

i heard the radio say that big girls don’t cry

(especially not at work)

so i drove with the window down and the radio blasting frustration away

(my tension unwound with the streetcar named platonic love)

and through the trees burst a golden beam of light that captured the grass in its glow

(a pathway pulling me home)

all irritation melted away in the Light

(He who walks among stars loves me)

nothing ever more amazing

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