Poetry

Made of These

Of tinfoil pinpoint stars
In blackest infinight
Am I made.
Of remotest snow-capped
Echoing silence mountain heights
In azure sunshine day
Am I made.
Of coming summer storms
And putting the bikes away
Am I made.
Of winter
Am I made
And of a distant train’s sound
On a sleeplessly summer night
Am I made.

I thank such Love,
The shaping hands,
That I am
Made of these
And so much more
As are we all.

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