Once in a while
a rarity is presented.
A winter's day so still.
It almost seems enchanted.
No movement whatsoever.
Not a bird. Not a leaf of any tree.
The sun quietly shines while the winds rest;
letting not a hint of breeze free.
But the world moves on, unheard;
leaving no sign; no trace.
With everything so still;
only my thoughts race.
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