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Friday, 29 November 2024

Incense smoke

Incense smoke

Flows down the fountain

Incense smoke

Rises to the ceiling


Up and down

Like the hole in the bucket collection

Of our hopes and emotions


And, as the smoke

Swiftly kisses, one wonders

What has happened

To the gravity of being


Do the words

Open up the reader

To gift a happy smile, or perhaps a solemn tear




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