The morning is stormy...

 

The morning is stormy
in the heart of summer.

Like white farewell handkerchiefs
the clouds wave, they sway
the wind with hands feverish for travel.

-Pablo Neruda-

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Oh Earth...

 

Oh Earth, you are too dear tonight,
How can I sleep while all around
Floats rainy fragrance &the far
Deep voice of the ocean that talks to the ground?

Oh Earth, you gave me all I have … what have I
That I can give you in return-
Except my body aft

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