The clouds are rolling outside.
Sometimes the day brings a storm.
On other days a darkness
is rarely cast, and the
streets are still in spirit.
Waiting for the morning
flowers to fall.

Clouds and flowers.
They come and go, I thought.
So I look at both
through my eyes of life.
And don’t count the fragments.
Afterall, the earth is home –
and the earth is nowhere.
​
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