Wednesday, January 11, 2012

a river of stones #11 January

As I watched the dark night turn to ashen gray it expressed a glowing aura of timid light that divided the earth and sky. Through the dense atmosphere a crown of blue morphed into brilliant streaks of yellow and pink across the skyline and mingled with orange and royal blue brush strokes; darker, deeper blue, a deeper pink that bled into a silver swirl of blue and gray and slowly settled on a thin layer of pale cirrus clouds. After several minutes of this ritualistic dance a white ball of fire emerged gloriously, pompously, above the horizon; all colours faded into black and white, and then it was day.

steam slowly drifts to my lips
from your tea cup

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