Poetic Mondays - the poetry in a cloudless day

Out we went and early it was, and above us, the sky, cloudless and still, like it doesn't often dare to be in these islands. And under the blue sky, the white light and the crispy air we walked, fragments of memories rushing in and out of my mind. Because in days like these I go through all my ages and all seasons of the year, chaotically, aleatorily. For all that it takes is a small drop of past, a single pearl of by gones, for our present to feel more present than ever, more vivid, more ours, more worth while.

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