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20180818_164009

something
in the sunflower’s
smile
scraping
the bluest sky
speaks
so gentle
your heart

a hush
entwined
the breeze
slowly
bending grasses
alto tones
of the chime
your voice

reclining
yellow hammock
a calm
the juiciness
our stolen pear
searching
these gardens
your hands

and how
a cloud
never dies
it simply turns
‘to rain
continually
feeding
a life.