A moment comes each morning when the light spills like liquid gold across the hills to the West
A moment comes each morning when the light spills like liquid gold across the hills to the West poems stories
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tylerknottgregs
tylerknottgregs Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago

A moment comes each morning when the light spills like liquid gold across the hills to the West

Shadows retreat, only slowly

For an instant, maybe two, all that’s not dark is gold

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