in the night
i wake up in acceptance
no sleep
i listen to mozart
serenade in B flat
the horn
i hear it
transform the melody
the room
becomes mysterious
scale of things
big or small all the same
i sense
how we are here
stokes of
sundering lightening
mirages
of fantastic cities
or bubbles
colliding together
*
what a blessing
to be a illusion
that can help
----
Quail Meadow
2014
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