Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Lemon Dew

I lie in the grass at the foot of the mossy mountain cliff
feeling the dew fall onto my face, into my mouth
bathing my tongue with gentle lemon fragrance

from the tree above

petals swirl in the breeze, wafting gentle yellow/pink over azure
it seems that the clouds become the petals, or the petals the clouds
a dream of gentle color washes on a tired canvas


(c) 2011

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