Transcendental Sonnet #1478:
Tomorrow to Me

Feet on the ground head in the clouds
Try to get by without tripping
Mind alone but heart with the crowds
Of us hanging on though slipping

Solidarity anyway
Then such human propinquity
As once there was and still might be
When the balance might be tipping

Where I want to be happy now
The way you do and we agree
That we are all we know of how
Tomorrow might come back today

Head in the clouds but I can see
We look like tomorrow to me

+Steven Curtis Lance



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