dawn

Idyllic lassitude

summer mornings

lazy, still,

humming silent tunes

your soul feels blue

the atlas on your wall

folded wrinkles

making a face

frowning,

drenched in dawn’s dew

lands you’ve seen

with the ridges

of your finger tips,

your arms rising with the sun

(breathe in, three, two, one)

a rush of life,

the cool morning’s breath

and for that moment

you held the entire world

in the span of your arm’s length.

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