My life is
a singing whisper
in mountain mist,
trailing winter
into spring love
with forgiveness
for fall's death,
eyes glazed
with years' shadows
but lacquered
in blessings,
a paracosm
to cool
too hot air
in reality's
dings.

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We're all small town blooms
with major city hearts,
luminous
in mortal growth
& less burdened
with art,
sometimes left
to breathe
citrus exhales
from trees,
nature's essence
soothing
frosty lips
to memories
more holy.

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