Made

Her arms and legs are carved from trees
No wonder they call them limbs 
Where the birds perch and sing their glee
And her fingers are long like leaves untrimmed 
Her mind is molded from the clouds
Casted into those wandering shapes
Which is why her dreams echo so loud
And she cannot find her way out of the whitish landscape
Her hair grows from those clouds
In long cirrus strands that pour from her head
Or perhaps they are more like a field unplowed
Growing stalks upon stalks on unruly beds
Bursting forth into reeds of grass she calls eyelashes
Which dries the rain that falls from her mind of skies
And occasionally not catching the wet that splashes
It pours out a drizzle through her eyes 
The girl was made from the gold dust of the ground
And every pearl of water from the sky
But she wasn't any different from any of us around
She is made of wonder and beauty just as you are and I. 



 



-anna sluder 

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