Warmed by the sun
the granite shimmers
like pyrite
in my golden summer,

The smallest cloud
casts shadows, coldly
upon my otherwise
warm-like day
setting my memory
back a bit
not wanting other
than good to come, of its
recollections,

Sitting, along inclined planes
watching the clouds play
in the endless sky
Wondering how long, I
will be permitted to enjoy
this sunny feeling
called life….

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