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.
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