kethrai's Diaryland Diary

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Twenty-two and eyes of blue....

...and a pocket full of stars
and a rattling glory
and a shoe full of spiders
and shooting fire across the sky
thirty nine miles up.

Look up. Today. Tomorrow. And all the days after.
For she is gone because of, for
just this--
to look up.

Good night, Columbia, good night.

Bright stars, bright dreams--and fair flight.

5:30 p.m. - 2003-02-04

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