in the distance
flickering softly,
warm hope
yawns,
bathing this
soft morning
with
birdsong,
whispering tales of journeys done,
beneath the canopy
of our shared
sapphire sky.
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in the distance
flickering softly,
warm hope
yawns,
bathing this
soft morning
with
birdsong,
whispering tales of journeys done,
beneath the canopy
of our shared
sapphire sky.
The Manic Scribbler