#1784-Work
19/06/2022
Yesterday’s art,
Is now gone.
A distant memory,
Somewhere in the clouds.
Still, remnants remain.
In white balls of hay,
For the winter ahead.
And when the fields
Are covered in white,
With no one in plain sight,
I can close my eyes,
Recalling those warm
Summer days,
When art and work,
Together played.
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