a morning talk
the sounds of the cicada
at dawn,
the buzzing sound of the
computer,
the wind outside
the coldness of the mountain breeze
within my mind,
comes rushing the music of the next lines
predominant is still the
silence
of this being
within us
always wanting to be heard
the sounds of the cicada
at dawn,
the buzzing sound of the
computer,
the wind outside
the coldness of the mountain breeze
within my mind,
comes rushing the music of the next lines
predominant is still the
silence
of this being
within us
always wanting to be heard
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