Changing Lenses
The sky is a dull blur this morning.
At such opaque times,
I clean the lens of mind,
to see what clarity is behind
the gray filters.
Surprisingly, I perceive,
some last snowflakes
have been painted emerald,
by thin rays of light,
The air appears now,
as an ethereal lathe
turning the ill-defined into
buoyant landscapes.
Wiping my glasses,
the sky and earth
sparkle brighter still,
behind a clearer mind.
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