I am but
a tender leaf
fluttering
in the wanton wind
who carries
now
a faint hint
of sweet fragrance
of what was
and what is to come,
and while I dance
in gay abandon,
twirling
in this unsullied moment
with my
sunlight dappled cloak,
joy fills the holes
of my filigree existence.
a tender leaf
fluttering
in the wanton wind
who carries
now
a faint hint
of sweet fragrance
of what was
and what is to come,
and while I dance
in gay abandon,
twirling
in this unsullied moment
with my
sunlight dappled cloak,
joy fills the holes
of my filigree existence.
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