these days

days that begin with promise
at times fizzle into dismal grays
spraying mist over dawning days
~
nipping in bud mood wilts, for blues’ busters
Digging into loot caches for robust earthy quilts and
Psychedelic pillows, I place them in random clusters
~

Hanging sun catchers nowadays infrequently pendulum
driven by random breezes when deck doors open, alas
November sun is no more that posturing lion of summer
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image is from internet~

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