A plodding drawn through hot
and dry, through the seasons
to graze this moment,
this cacophony of light—
of life exploding
beneath our feet.
A plodding drawn through hot
and dry, through the seasons
to graze this moment,
this cacophony of light—
of life exploding
beneath our feet.
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The Creator is an artist, is he not . . .
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One with a workable plan and a helluva imagination.
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beautiful
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too bright to photograph under cloudy skies
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