In turrets of maybe ( and castles of clouds)

sit in sun

‘neath haloed sky

wonderin’ where you are

taste of springtimes

Softened sun

in hapless genies jar

catch my reflection

in shadowed wood

in turn of squinted eye

reach timid hand

to rope the wind

which laughs and flutters by

turn my face

in half moon smile

eyes in searching drought

of life and love

and freedoms hope

in scattered windblown shout

About lifeofawillow
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