CYCLE-AND-RECYCLE?
From cradle to grave,
from womb to tomb,
all is just change,
ask the sun and moon.
All is change, all is change,
and does not death rearrange?
SOARING SPIRITS
Round and round
until we fall
dizzy, drunk
as at a May Ball?
Round and round
dance and spin
as round the Maypole
of fertile spring?
Round and round,
ah round the world
let us two fly;
let us both soar, girl.
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