Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Undocumented Ours

Mornings come softly now

Fresh linens, white and cream
Once elusive simplicity
And undocumented hours

A quiet knowing
A day unfolding
Lots of time
And undocumented hours

The breathe are deliberate
Expansive, releasing
Taking no prisoners
And undocumented hours

Hands are older
Reaching for the moments
Loving family and friends
And undocumented hours

Choices are easy
Minds less cluttered
We know what matters
And undocumented ours.




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