Cinder Morn
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The clouds hanging low
muffled the maple-covered mountain.
Fog from the saturated earth
weakly, wet the newborn breeze.
Mist maintained the rainy connection
between earth and eternity.
A gray day lay upon
the weary weakened eye of morning.
Soon the breeze blossomed to wind
wiping the cinders from the sun.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
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