I am addicted to your spare landscape.
Each dropp of rain is distinct as a tear.
A lemon touch of old sun scores the mind.
Joy chafes our subtle thoughts into a flame.
Strong music would be hurtful to the mood.
A whisper has the power to cross seas.
I meet you on the dusk bridge of your choice.
Nothing is foreign to the color blue.
Time mixes metaphors in shades of smoke.
The palette pleases the discerning eye.
A shadow bird sings to the falling air.
That song goes with us to infinity.
Copyright, Sandra Fowler,2008
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