I woke up to a grey sky
and birdsong wrapped
in wet leaves,
the smell of salt
melting into a drizzle,
the touch of home
in a wandering breeze,
and birdsong wrapped
in wet leaves,
the smell of salt
melting into a drizzle,
the touch of home
in a wandering breeze,
all same.
no matter where I live,
what I do or not,
some things nameless,
hold my heart
and everything,
in a soundless sound.
what I do or not,
some things nameless,
hold my heart
and everything,
in a soundless sound.
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