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A Glossy Warmth
A glossy warmth is forming
On the meadow.
Shallow morning air
Transfixed thru every eye.
From the memory of the sun’s blood,
Life is transfused.
Bird and fowl
Share a common breath,
Falling into the day.
Where softness stays
This day remains.
Like the feathered touch
Of an old idea,
This place, this time,
Made for bigger hearts
Than mine..
Copyright ©
Vernon Witmer
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