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AnyesC Dec 2018
4 haïkus across the laverie

Sun is on the stone
Wind on my face in dukedom
Seagulls glide above

Clothes are being washed
Below Caen’s castle stone walls
The wind brisk, face lit

Empty bench for bones
Aching from forceful moving
I rest in the sun

Towers and steeples
Golden over grey traffic
Two worlds touch yet not.
AnyesC Dec 2018
I am in the dark, squared by black and white
Four walls lacking roundedness frame my vision,
The light is golden on the shimmering leaves.

The days shorten, one at a time, the way leaves will fall
To the ground soon enough, after the pears swell,
Golden as the light on the shimmering leaves.

My life slowly narrows, a lane fading in the arisen,
My friends distance themselves with business and absence,
The golden spark in their eyes evanescing like the crescent of shimmering leaves.

My brain feels like a gold nugget, heavy with substantial matter
That encumbers the dancing space and molecule-shifting
Ahh, would my attention-love laugh and rejoice like the shimmering leaves.

— The End —