standing atop a summit at daybreak
it’s still the night, but just barely
brown paper packages tied up with hope
and filled up with love at 4 in the morn
pour-overs and pull-overs
steam on black rimmed glasses
nieces speaking miracles and metaphors
but to them, they’re just wondering
indigo blue midnight canopy
polka-dotted with whimsical wishes
unexpected text messages sending
hope, longing, and merriment
reconnecting again and again
despite when static soars and signals drop
holding hands, strolling
autumn, winter, summer, spring
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