I have seen balls turn uphill,
neither rolled nor thrown,
when the world went upside down.

And the streets grew wider
making a way for thousands
to walk abreast holding hands.

Sheets removed themselves
from lion-clawed chairs.  Food 
and drink appeared on tables.

Warnings turned into eyes
wakening, dressing for time
captured during the day.

And the mudball needed
just a light rub or two
to become golden.

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