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Though not me

January 16, 2014

I love the lingering
silver morning light
Still lazy with the moons breath
Playing its silent melody
Like a mute dance

Seen best in the wet jewels
Of heavy dew
Clinging to the nodding buds,
Or humble bending blades of photosynthesis

And the cool sting of the cobbles
Beneath my bare feet
Whisper to me the secrets
Of the night’s play
Put on for those awake
(Though not me)


From → poetry, Uncategorized

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