Tuesday, January 6, 2015

another land

bent towards
the fallen snow,
with shovel
in gloved hand, the white
crust
that fell overnight
when I was dreaming
of clouds,
and sand,
a stretch of beach,
those palm
trees
swaying as we bathed
in the morning sun,
saying nothing
to one another,
but smiling,
happy to be in another
land.

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