On some mornings
dreamers and early risers
travel in flames and floating baskets
of hot air balloons
over a landscape of hills
covered in whiteness,
vineyards in early bloom.
Cyclists attired in solemn black
or patches of colors,
dot the roads,
a pilgrimage of solitude
Travelers in their own
separate worlds living
a dream of spring.
Just lovely, Edgar.
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Thank you Heather.
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