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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Sick for a Day

Yesterday,
I walked in rocky places.
The old
talk about their illness,
the young
about their hearts.
I value all of it.
In the end
I should like to fall
from the sky,
with blue wings.
A full man,
and have my mother come
and tell me,
you imagine too much
my imaginal child.
You do not know
how to be old,
or die.
Go play in your dreams
with my love.

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