At the Blue River
Solitary I stand at the Blue River,
remaining there,
I look astonished at the pebbles,
shining like diamonds,
without the dust of the past,
brilliant.
Solitary I stand at the Blue River,
covered by tiny mist.
Millions of droplets
reflect the daylight,
slowly.
Solitary I stand at the Blue River,
but my thoughts are drifting with the wind,
forcing far clouds to haste,
breathless.
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