Euphoria
Rivers of winding winds,
their saw edged currents
chipping away at stone clouds.
Crests of powdery floss
slip over mountainous verges.
Not knowing anything about
the flexibility of granite cliffs
or the secret waves of the spheres,
I dip my face
into a whitewater sky,
jump out and in
of its
see-through skin.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2024
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