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Fragments From a Waning Spring

Image copyright Fred First
Heat. Haze overhead.

A green wall of woods and growing things. Wet air, whining insects spiralling in white sun.

Summer closes in--incandescence constricting and confining.

A morning walk and little catches my eye but lush life in shades of green

but for one small columbine, that who knows why, put pigment from fallen petals in leaves that lift like pink birds from an emerald forest.

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Comments

Them words are real purty, Fred.

Really though, I like the freedom of thought and flow I see here. I think blogging does wonders for one's writing in some ways.

Elegant words scattered like mirrored raindrops on wet leaves.

I get different reflections each time I scan them.

Sprinkle some more...

There may be more transformations to wonder at.

Wonderful! Wonderful words and good eye! thanks!
Anne

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