He wants to stand straighter,
so he searches for things that are straight
to show him the way,
but surprisingly,
he finds very few.
The far-off clouds always curve
and lean over,
and most trees
make crookedness seem handsome.
The years have disfigured
some of the hills he sees,
and even the streets
twist around in misshapen ways.
He guesses
it's sometimes good
to be bent,
the way trees are
when they lean down
to look at the spring grass,
the way the wind is
when it tilts along a hill.
He'll keep his back
as straight as possible,
but he'll still have praise
for things that bend and bow.
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