Lyrics of the Wind
The fading sun bleeds it last pink shards through pastel ice of twilight
Shimmering gods of ancient times emerge from their slumber
The faint smell of lilacs suffused with the musk of a late spring lake
Fireflies sanguinely dance within the windswept chattering reeds
With the right kind of ears, you can faintly hear the whispers of your soul
Copyright © David Mohn | Year Posted 2014
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