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Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us, 
even in the leafless winter, even in the ashy city. 

I am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart pumping hard. 

I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. 
I want to be light and frolicsome. 
I want to be improbable, beautiful, and afraid of nothing, 
as though I had wings.

–Mary Oliver

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