Friday 21 April 2017

Golden sunset.
Church bells ringing
in the valley.
The distant song
of the first spring bird.
A cold breeze rises up
from the lake.


My essence, like a piece of
expensive fabric,
billowing in just such a wind
- the inner tempest of thoughts
and emotions.


That fabric has gold
embroidered on the edges.


I stand still in the wind
and sing. 

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