A MOMENT OR TWO
Here, the silence moves,
Breathing through the hills.
A slow rotation of light,
A rolling, simple atmosphere,
An eased exchange of airs.
These valley profiles punch through
A rippled horizon of high hills.
Valley roads snaking through
To the clear, white sky.
—
UPWARD
Snow is on the hills again,
But the blackbirds know Spring is here,
Singing through the long, cold rain.
—-
simonhlilly 
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