Lighting crown

Tired brains ain’t good for sensible stories.

I have a lightning crown on my head.

It weaves yellow fibers of electric thread.

I have a cloud scarf that skirts my neck.

Not dandruff, but snow, that speck.

I have a cyclone jacket on my chest.

Blows away ever unwanted guest.

I have a fog belt on my hip.

Droplet-lined pockets too airy to rip.

Hoarfrost pants are covering my legs.

Freezing the water when I wade in the dregs.

My feet are uncovered and made of dirt.

Worms live in them happy, tunneling unhurt.

I don’t know me, but wherever I go,

People sing to me and I think I grow.

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