High wisping clouds
Puff the blue sky
With pillowy stuff
This afternoon
On her tree-lined,
Dead-end street, soft
In sunlight, shaded
By the green leaves
That hide the house
Where she grew up,
Now revisited
As an adult, long-
Moved away from here
But still hoping
To find something
Of the past, for her
A sustaining,
Idealized
Childhood joy.
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