Morning

The dappled light
Through leaf and blind
On wall and bed post
Proves the broken morning
Swift is becoming
the new fall day.

I breathe the cold air
While the dogs roam
Sniffing up the loamy scents
And watch the golden glow
Rise above the treed horizon.

My warm breath mists.

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Author: Phil RedBeard

I'm just a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe.

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