Half kind thoughts skim across the edge of tomorrow
like the crows in flight in the half light of dusk
and otters flash and splash in glinting streams
of pure consciousness concealed by clear waters
from cold dark mountains hidden in a mist of dreams.
Smoke winds its way in stillness of unmoved air
from a chimney mounted high on mossy slates
above gouged grey and rivened walls of warmth.
A seagull cries as it softly glides above the ocean deep
a chill of imagination grips the heart and holds me to my dream.
Holding On
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