Golden Light

The sound of evening
pours through
at the open window
flooded with golden light;
these final days
of Summer,
and how they hang
as though out to dry
like wet clothes
on a clothesline,
though the air is still,
but warm and just as
fresh as the clean linen,
that it’s almost as if
I could close my eyes
and believe, if but
for a moment,
that I am far away
and back on the land
where I grew up
where there was nothing
but these wide open spaces
where Summer could stretch out
as far as she liked.

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2 thoughts on “Golden Light

  1. fridayam says:

    This is tight and beautiful x

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