He is the softness I crave in color
The silver moon in a haze from slumber
Or how he pulls from me my wonder
And plants it in the sky as starlight named summer
He is the daisy field I want to lay
With weeping willow in the shade
He is the reason daydream comes to play
The wind is heaven in a sway
© Delia Ross. 2021
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poetry, photography, and editing by @poeeternal