Two seated figures rest atop a hill
bathed in the shades of blue, blue-green, and gray.
The lines are soft, sharp angles smoothed away,
worn round like pebbles in the silver bay
that lies beneath.
The moment’s standing still,
halfway to go, for now it lingers here,
suspended, shimmers in the glowing light,
the earth and sky between.
Sweet is the night
the day surrenders to without a fight,
kind is the time of twilight
burning clear.
Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)
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