In The Moment

Clouds clash, smash, crash
Wind rush empty – bitter, uninvited
Howling, yowling, brushing past moaning
Brewed Gold at sunset, set Red in the morning.

Anger and angst riding roughshod
Across the moon.

Morning. Warbling, tinkling, trilling water.
And birdsong.

In The Moment

MagpieMoon

Joined January 2008

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