He would see the clouds, resting on their daily divan. And want to spin air.... Air the color of the forest... dense as the memory he held David wanted to spin, hundreds
of daily shows... He would never see... Each day of sight was dressed solely for him.. The jacket of time, the sun Buttons
the moon No ribirth for David, handspun, handpainted Movement of time, land, green, or brown Seasons, festival of
time Cheers, Jeers, David wonders what's it like not to see....!
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