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Misty like a London fog Ethereal gossamer wings Expand- the air is still- Breathless, wide-eyed waiting... The lips Circular As if Saying, "Who?" Sparks blink bright touch pressure ignition warmth melting Dissolving... Time stops. The earth does not turn. The planets are frozen. The stars are held fast. The great beast takes a breath. No better place to be: Everything at once and only Then. Shiny faces. With a wurble the clock Starts again. The feathery wonderful wings Are once again closed. The mist is quite lifted And I am back in the clearing. |