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Golden Hour
Just one more golden hour
When the world is how it was intended to be seen
When sparkling light dusts the crevices of red brick
And pools in shady patches of cool green grass
The earthy smell of summer air lingers on clothes
And splashing water stills in rippling beams on the sand
The last light of the day reaches in my windows
And wakes me from my rest with long slanted fingers
It shakes me from the monotony
And lifts my lids with gentle plucks of a harp
I jump into the golden dust
And soar over the leaves
Alight with the sun’s love
Sparkling with its final farewell
I am alive
In the moments of anticipation
Just before
Everything is gone
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