Mystified
The magic of the morning mist clings to comfort
these perpetually haunting mountains.
Mystifying all she gently touches,
she sprite dances on tip toe through her sleepy valley ballets
Where dripping dewdrops sparkle like tinsel
on wanton limbs desperate for a more pristine air.
I dare to breathe it in, basking in its lusciousness,
drowning in its freshest petrichor.
Massaged mercifully by her dissipating fingers of cleansing calm,
I soak my sorrows head to toe with deliverance
from an evening's shadow that sunk sulking into sun's demise.
Tomorrow forever gone, new day of hope dawns.
Another chance to be who I long to be.
~P.S. Colley~
December 28, 2024
Songs of Appalachia

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