Charcoal thoughts spill across

river deep eyes.

The flow of strong vision grasps at

the promise of  angels

with empty pockets.

Whispers lift into voices, like ribbons

trailing behind youthful smiles and hope abounding.

A song rises into a chorus of winds,

spreading out like well worn paths.

Time releases the face of change.  The sameness

wrapped in black and white.  The start of stopping

and the joy of change.

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