The meadowlark’s song
Picked up, toss-and-tumbled
By the careless wind
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The meadowlark’s song
Picked up, toss-and-tumbled
By the careless wind
Clouds of every hue
Rushed across the morning sky
By the restless wind
Gentle, misty rain
Alchemy on salted skin
Racing heart set free
Dark painted clouds
Withhold (barely) their burden
Tulips stretch upward
Runners take the track
Stirring air like water
Beading on the brow
White dandelions
Soft field of birthday candles
Waits to be blown out
Twenty-two long
And the rising, dripping sun
The Trial of Miles
Slice the morning mist
With its feathered chatter
Jumping puddles
Ruby sunrise
Through distant streaks of rain
Blossoms on the path
Jetstream travelers
Miss out, from their lofty view
On fresh blossom scents