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Sleeping in the Clouds

Melting, melting
In and out of sleep
Like a rock thrown into
Into the slow and deep
Like the pebbles
Back down the mountainside
On a silent Harley Blue Electra Glide
In and out of the slow motion scene
Thoughts and Whispers
In my head careen
Till the buttery bumpy
Jet engines scream
And the G forces press my mind
Like soft rubber ice cream
Slinky neck and brow so low
Floating forward into eye of blue
The cold air hangs all about
Like frozen dew
Then scratching over my consciousness
Comes the tin can voice
Of aft attending stewardess
So the Time is traced
By the dull yawning roar
Through speed and splendor to embrace
The ethereal snow drifts and blowing cotton rushes
So turn me now Like a New York spinning door
Hold my soul as my spirit soars in the mist
And my thoughts lay on the floor
In my fist lies the grist
Of this sleepy awakening.

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