Monday, March 19, 2018

Zephyr

She was a different kind of soul,
She liked lavender lattes and rock n roll.
Her spirit was free,
Like a bird in the wind.
Always moving east to west, then back again.

She wore vintage clothes, and torn up jeans.
Tossed her hair, cuffed her sleeves.
Sang shamelessly in quirky bars,
All cares to the wind...

This time was hers.

She grew with each sunrise,
And blossomed with each sunset.
She reminisced of times they met.

A simple song in the sweet wind.

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