A Southern Poetaster
An inferior poet, living too far south...
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May 12, 2015
Rose Colored Glasses beneath Blue Skies
Standing in the middle of the road
at noon, in June,
the light is paralyzing. Everything shines
in a glow of possibility.
The beauty is surreal, like lies
in a halo; where
love waits, always waits, beyond
the next sunrise.
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