Perception
"One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things" Henry Miller
out
amid the blanketing
eclipsed
along pas(t)sed
appeared in her gloaming
a ne'r nether
of nighttime sky
searched by starlight
mooned
where no beginnings
nor any ends
beheld
bathing in a
darkness of time
solemn I stare
where footfalls fell
in patterns of three
as if dancing
in a never ending breeze
a ballerina
light as the snowflakes
melted on the tips of tongues
to go back to when we were young
what verses would be sung
would we do it all again
I traipse my weary feet
across the valley of your dreams
a spruce of blue
looking only in the shadow
of you
an emerald of peace
cut to precision
adorned at the nape
of her echoes
far
but not out of reach
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