Tell Me:

January 18, 2011
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What is beauty? Beauty is harvest leaves,
It is the pale dawn sky’s red round sun
And the salty scent of a brine breeze.
The sparkling black heavens when day is done.
The groan of a balanced branch in the wind,
The stain dipped brush in the sun’s deep rays,
The orange of the koi delicately finned,
Frosty mountain tops in foggy blue haze.
Soft sweet breaths in the glowing morning light
And the sun kissed boy with a smile so bright.
It’s the love brought down by a broken sky
The clouds that reside way up high:
Floating and fleeting like a swelling heart,
Peeling away and breaking apart.

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