She lashes out at her stars in the middle of the night because they are too bright

I sit in the middle of a pond and ponder this

Why so sullen until now, little girl?

Why so violent the outbursts?

In hue of rumination and forestalling the future

I put out my fire at the bottom of the pond

And make wonder appear, if I could do so easily, as easily as I could

She will wonder, too

Why her dimly lit sky

Was not there sooner

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