The sun went down
Making the room rise up in golden patches of light.
The notes were laid out like fields all around us,
Dust falling slowly.
“We have time,” he said.
Gentle tones in his voice lifted me up like wings,
Like cumulus clouds stuffed in layers upon themselves,
Sitting sweetly in the sky.
We could look out far beyond the room,
Past saffron sunbeams,
To acres and acres of earth
And we began to dream again.
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