Poetry

benign here

does there have to be a reason
sitting alongside to next across the street

whenever the sun smiles watching the light lift
withered wings appear appeased

writing a word and then another
one sentence starts to sing

fairy forgiven hands slay dishonor
feet walking away from here

another approach turns three times
the newness smells so sweet
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my every day journal entry. page possibly 7. i’ve lost count. day 7.
weather outside is cold and wet with a chilling wind. just the way i like  it.

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