Even before the words of getting, the spring hit of sun in sentence
relaxes. A line of poetry waits
for breath. We
expect. A poem
expects words. Words
plan on the.
The is microcosm
of direction. Utility breeds
utility. A sentence can go
four feet or
more. Signage
is an extra
hand. Poets describe
extra hands. Words
are parcels. I want to be
a lark, says the
program.
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