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Out

Writing outside where the failing wind sources my contours the whoosh of irreverent travel slips the ear and the bristle yap of a garden dog above mist swords and billowed edges whisper in a diluted sun set for another encore grass tantalises with samba sways and bushes wave their tendrilled fingers in evenings gaps golden ashes transmute to dirt as dancing flies cool in disputed thermals

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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