a few minutes from home
a Rorschach cloud hovers at the horizon,
our interpretation a product of lives lived,
loves gained and lost, our ancestors, distant
pasts, paths trodden, many untaken.
Tears fall onto the landscape below.
whether of joy or happiness unknown.
beauty is known in this landscape that
lies so close to home, a mere stroll up
a path up to an abandoned quarry,
let us go there together sometime
and stand at the edge, holding hands
and wishing upon a rising star.
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