Micropoetry 8-8-2020

in the world
beneath the moon
where secrets
shall never leave
the doors we close

unable to leave
until the morning lines
have drawn the world
once more in the mist
of breaking light

into a prism of light
until my colors melt
into the waves
that lap the shore

wired to the world
I reach to her
with arms open
to what may come

she slips a dash
of the colors she carries
through the broken surface
where new life grows



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