the four days-
the cold barren
the stark bare
the slumber huddle
survival; closed eyes;
the gentle warming
on western horizon
land unlocked under toe
slow awakening
dawning eyes
adjusting to the light
stretching out
up towards the sky
hands palms wide
to warming glory
migration towards
the water,
the ocean
holding on
until the cooling
and leaves fallen,
loops on turn
we then return
to our station.

a scrap I wrote a while ago, I find them on various thumb drives, and I am surprised but what In find but then remember the vibe so… this is mine, all thoughts are welcome, I am a curious to find out the minds of others, it does not consume me, but it does have a sense of interest to see how I swim among my peers stuck in my same years of time…

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