17 October, 2007

Quiet Occupation

Light dances off my fingertips.
Shadows fall upon the terrace wall.
The sea breeze rushes up the cliff
And races over my head,
Through the frangipani leaves.
Branches sway to and fro.
A song. A dance. This day.
A gift of the mighty gods.
A bird’s wings flutter. It flies…
Away. Gone. This moment in time.

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