There is a chant that goes with skipping rope, A nonsense rhyme as playful as a breeze That shakes the rain from trees, a lilting hope Designed for fantasies: all in togetherm The sheep's in the meadowm These jingles of her skipping ritual Are runes to ward off sorrow. They must hold When fallen leaves will mold against a wall And winter winds grow bold: The cow's in the cloverm All jump overm The slack rope swings And through its looping arc A child who sings Has leaped beyond the dark.

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