Of Freedom Falling Down



I told a fib and washed it all in yellow

Yellow dandelions, yellow lilies

and purple pansies all.

The fib returned and lighted

atop the streak of silver cloth

that billowed past my head.

And time remained in tulip form

until I found the lost refrain

of sorrow eating joy and pain,

of freedom falling down,

of freedom falling down.

The End

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