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Climbing Mountains
On a chilly autumn night
While rain droplets shattered against the windows
And thunder played tambourine to keep the beat,
You toddled into my room.
With hazy 3 A.M. eyes
You ascended the mountain capped in white sheets,
A subtle grin of courage across your lips
As you traversed the summit.
You tugged gently at my arm,
So I pulled you carefully into my folds
Like an origami crane nursing its young;
You were hiding from pirates.
On a frigid winter afternoon
I watch the clustered snowflakes fall
From my spotless room labeled 302.
Everything is white and silent.
The glowing green machine beside me
Is a beacon in the vast emptiness,
Flashing a steady stream of my failing heart.
There are no spikes of triumph.
And you, my child, have enclosed me
In your warm embrace, tenderly kissing
My creased cheeks as my eyes slip shut.
The air is so thin at the summit.
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