Morning clouds savor the sun;
Lingering layer upon layer,
Like comfortable bed clothes
Wrapped in warmth.
ln a moment soon gone,
They paint the sky
From edge-to-edge
With red-orange brush;
Indescribable hues of beauty.
The entire world seems to stop,
To behold such a giant canvas;
That soon melts away;
Leaving only a memory,
Until tomorrow.
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green lines trace the form
on pastel purple paper
creating an insignia
new to us all
we shouted aloud
affirmative accolades
until we learned 
it was a symbol
of insidious past hate
what is new never is
what is old always is
with memory shadows
moving forward
trying to forget
trying to forget

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Cloudy Morn

The clouds attack this day
Like infinite tons of steel
Smashing the sun.
Holding the morning hostage
With no ransom,
Except a promise;
Sunshine someday.

Sky and horizon
Look the same
A green-grey-granite;
Cold as a gravestone
In the dead of winter.

Emotions emulate the clouds,
Sluggish, stupid funk;
Sinking into squalor.
Leaving behind the dregs
Of half-drunk coffee.
Give the energy to say,
“Good morning world.”

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