A Nameless Moment

July 31, 2017
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A soft wind
Rustles through the pines.
A soft sun
Breaks the dark hills.


Slowly it rises,
Slowly snow glistens,
Sparkling like a lake,
Shining like a silver fish—


Freshly caught. Beached,
And about to dry out,
Like the snow.
The sun will suck the shimmer from the snow.


And for a short time
Of quiet and stillness, the world, Time,
And yet—it progresses as the soft sun breaks dark hills.

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