light(ly)

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the soft breeze leans onto my face
briskly teasing what is left of softness
of spring, forthcome summer
uneding dreams and stars unshined

the cat rolls on dry concrete and so
days roll on as my skin is burdened
with the clouds' tyrant reign, i now
see that green sea sparkling, freed

poematy takieМесто, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя