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I long to be lost in smoke on water
Drifting a canoe instead of
Doing things I ought to.
Slipping through shapes that twist and shift
To be absorbed and released and slide
Through sculptures made of wind.
I can escape here just yards away
From shrouded backyards
Chores and responsibilities.
And searching in the thickest, all closed off,
Paddle poised midair,
Sun rising somewhere,
I might just look ahead and see
The shadow
Of what is me.
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