Thursday, March 13, 2025

Sunlight Breeze


whispering winds blow through trees
as gently as sunlight reflects off
windowsills - shades pulled down,
mothers watch toddlers catch the light
that will not be contained...  gentle
breezes blow southwar butd, into the
valley rustling up the brush that live
close to the foothill of the smokies,
shades are drawn or worn depending
upon the moment and those participating,
clouds cast out of heaven flow in between
comfort rendered indirectly, time is
passed from one generation to another
until the seeds of our destruction are
no longer planted in the soil and
harvested in the fall along with the
crops sole at the marketplace for
pennies on the dollar, knowing they
will no longer be minted...  we are
hesitant to miss the parade but are
much appreciating the sunlight.


March 8, 2025

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