Again, this is my voice in fifth grade. That was the year I started to write poems, and maybe I continued because my teacher asked for so many copies and hung them on the board.
I dream...
I dream I am a great, big, golden eagle and that I fly over beautiful sights.
I fly to Australia and look at the swamps.
I fly to the Grand Canyon and perch on a tree limb halfway down.
I fly south for the winter with other birds.
I slide with penguins and try to teach them to fly.
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