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poetry

With You

A low haze hugs the still early morning after rain,

The sup of earth,

The sweat of leaf,

The drip of final drop from tip and top of towered trees,

My skin absorbs the scent of spore,

The musk of deer,

The shine and wet of wood,

Here,

Where life begins and ends,

With hoof and beat of wing,

With brown-green dappled blue,

Here is where I most belong,

With you.


ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2020

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.


      

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