Fireworks and Sassafras
A little white soft and cold,
Dewey sky still yet bold,
Silohouette of each cloud gold,
Tips dancing grey and old,
Above peaking yellow sky,
Impatient heads mute and dry,
Grey squawks across and fly,
Crisp breezes tease and die,
Flat presses on frosty glass,
Swirls of heat bricks to pass,
Wisps kissing the sleeping grass,
Dreams of fireworks and sassafras..
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