Lemon Tea

I wondered how close the fire when I walked into the haze, at first. Skies are pasted with a light frosting; the promised sun diffused. Friendship is casual and honest with a slice of lemon that compensates.

Power is sought to refrain from habit; weakened and subdued. A quiet mind drifts on melody that slips into the sacred ponder.  House sparrows dance with nimble claws through lilac and lavender.

Shadows pull back as the sky burns through the low hang over.

Spring is too loose to keep a choke on. It will soon be replaced with something stern; more intolerant.

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