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A baby, asleep, in the valley of a creek, high desert

On creek time,
a nap lasts the age
of the universe.

A young child
does not know
the darker side of dreams.

The trees play
their flutes
into our breeze.

Green must try it's luck
with what shades
it may create.

We can only say
thank you
for your shadows.
Posted byRomanAugust 16, 2025Posted inPoetryLeave a comment on A baby, asleep, in the valley of a creek, high desert

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