Crawl between some mountains
Climb high above their tree-lines
To sit upon a long lonely rock shelf
Waiting for morning winds to arrive.
No sun, no daylight, just darkness
Weighs each moments’ worth to time
A share in story weights, stories told
While companions stare out to sip upon.
A single bottle, wild raspberry wine
Taking easy at rest leaning back
Against smooth vertical surfaces
Swapping tales from nights before.
These two wanders, wayfarers
Converse in future divergent
Travels, yet to be written in ways
As they wait now silent to dawn.
A world tilting, spinning through
Shades to darkness’ blue tones
Where a molten gold splits across
Far deep on an endless horizon curve.
For the once night air now picks up, it stirs
Rolling in waves, crashing loud as thunder
Across these two figures high in the moment
Awake, bare to the molten honey Sun’s desires.
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