in all the busyness, remote corners of calm the traffic does not reach.
spaces to rest awhile, small hidden places unremembered.
life withdraws on the forgotten paths, wandering off through dry leaves.
watching it go, its orange and purple clouds touch my skin,
as all moments do, fading and moving away.
something about time - so quiet and unhurried.
we becoming older - more broken in
with hearts a little fuller, a little slower.
those moments yearned for, these so precious.
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