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RAINBOW

A rainbow is thrown at me
the colors are words
I see them and feel them
and hear rhyming verbs.
The meanings are weaving
like a river of thought
I've stepped into the water
and flow where I'm tossed.
In a moment of brilliance
somehow I have regained
the poetry I relenquished
while I chose other things.
The art was in another part
of my brain.

As I walked on the land...
...with a brush in my hand.

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