Words nest
inside,
yearning
for wings.
The sky
invites,
provokes
from within.
From the
den, eyes behold the blue
so many
times, yet so new,
what
words want to write
ruffle, ripple,
rewind.
No point,
coming out in the air…
to show,
what the spread had not yet seen!
The
simmer’s on as it were
while words can imagine.
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