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Misty Morning's Whisper

Her warm breath fogs the pane. She draws a mis-ty veil. Footsteps fade like lost ghosts. Her voice melts in the rain. Dreams ache inside her chest. Hope hums of might-have-been. Contest: SOME KIND OF MISTY Poetry Contest Sponsor: Nette Onclaud Date: July 5, 2025

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things