Wednesday, November 14, 2012

#39 Cloudy

The breeze's soft hand brushes my hair back
As the green fingers tickle the side of my face
Tranquility is today's middle name, time is its last
And I have more than enough of both.
I am soft and silent and serene
And in love with this cloudy day.
There is no sun to warm me
And no sun shine dancing on my eyelids
And yet I am afloat
And so high I can reach out and touch them.

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