Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the lifeless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now,
of grief, and getting past it;
I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things
I want to be light and frolicsome
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing
as though I had wings.