though I am not beautiful
I love beautiful things
and though not adventurous
I love the tales adventurers sing.
I like the sunrise, and the sunset too
I love to stargaze, one of the many who
sit by porchlight till the sun threats to rise
I love the sleep inside my mind.
I move through life on a shadowed cloud
hidden in a rainy shroud
and though you cannot understand
how I live in such a storm
perhaps you do not realize
this is my favorite form.

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