Opening grace vision of time…by G. Mramor

A swarm of dust from the thunder of wings, yarns of shadows about a yawning sextet, the silence of two in the valley of trees, vision of Arcadia upon the shifting verdure bed, lawns lazing lorn fore the force of breath who whispers out the halls of heaven and passes away, shivurr the force of loss through trees beyond memory, the song of life upon red-tanned walkways, music of rest bobbing every sun-dripped leaf, the stately pomp of red-beaked fowl, sweat staining down glass pillars churning to the motion ineffable ephemeral forever, in the opening grace vision of time


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