The River Calls My Name

By Shams-i-Heartsong

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Original Poems and Photos


Fall Breeze

Peddling toward the setting sun
I create the soft breeze
That caresses my face.

The fall air smells clean,
Crisp with preparation for winter.
The sun paints the canvass sky.

This Breath;


This Moment;


Peddle by peddle.

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