I Count The Tiny Glitters
S Sandra Fowler
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The sun is shining gray upon this hour.
The widening sky has drained the poem's power.
My tears are glued like fireflies to the pane.
I count the tiny glitters of mood rain.
You drink your coffee calmly in the dark
Embroidered shadows of the fading park.
I wish that I was there to fade with you,
But my windows are too thick with blue.
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