Sky
Game
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Today there is no sky
Up there where it belongs.
Sometimes the sky dips
Too close to the ground.
The trees grab it
And pin it to the earth,
But only in winter
When tree arms are bare
Exposing jagged fingers.
Some days the sky wriggles
Up and overhead by noon.
Sometimes the trees
Hold it down for days.
I think it is a game.
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