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There are dawned mornings some often find the same balcony just months in difference,

Leaned over the same stretch of oak-beam and widen pupils

To untangle their breath as it intertwines with lake-steam;

And watch dragon-tailed sunrises in different-hued scenes.


Back inside a fire-warmed cabin held up by support beams over a thin beach

Prior to high-tide, the moon was higher, hoisting up the sun to be parallel with that orange

It petrified the violet, you could see it hide when the light scattered through eight-foot windows

And cascaded through the bedroom’s opened door and flood aside each door-hinge, refracting crystals.


One might say the kitchen was grand and Moorish, with blurred awakening vision mistaking the finished twigs lining the oven-vent with adornments.

Differences being,

One coffee and one water,

Though, neither disturbed the air which was muddled with pollen in refuge;

each morning in comparison to the last was always more humid and softer.


Each time, the wind surged throughout the mountains behind the cabin,

And although neither could have consciously thought,

They felt the same effect as blindly listening to violins slowly humming.

And each shutter of the largest trees were windchimes, or so it felt;

One would kneel to fasten a table-leg for balance, and so the other knelt.

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Sun 5th Feb 2023 14:24

Stunning. Love it.

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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Sun 5th Feb 2023 11:13

You paint some lovely images of nature there Caleb.

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