Issue: "leaves blown"
in the glade
bathed by
sun and shadow
I kneel
among ancients
breathing, breathing
you are
my wellspring,
my inheld breath
who would I be now
if we had never met
each other's eyes
a troupe
of pink fairy slippers
in forest shade
if only
we could still sway
like flowers in the wind
once a year
on the threshold
of this mountain
we ascend
beyond worldly cares
to take our place among stars
A Cherita Lighthouse Award
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