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Jun 19
Pink stretches of fluffy light
would reach into my
small, sad, ivory house,
past shabbily
curtained windows.

Glowed behind the branches of
a maple tree we planted on my
son's first birthday.

Drifted through spring time buds,
into full green spread of summer leaves,
then golden umbrellas ready to fall
on the hard ground of winter.

I tied the curtains back so
the spectrum of seasons would
breathe into every cramped room.

There was only so much
I could do with that house.
Yet each dawn still
trembles it awake
with colour.


June 2020 @ Eleo C. Nora
Eleo C Nora
Written by
Eleo C Nora  Windsor
(Windsor)   
30
 
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