Sweetly whirling

It’s that time of the year again, time when thoughts of you flutter in circle like a windmill spinning endlessly on a wide empty space out there in the wild. You, because you are floating, sometimes sweetly whirling in that empty grey space in my chestnut brown head. My mind overflowing with unspoken words, silent memories mysteriously rippling… The summer breeze sweeps through the day into autumn, slowing leaving behind trails of unfinished winter moments of blue, brown and yellow. And I thought I heard you laugh amid the sound of silence getting louder as the evening light rushes into the dark of the day… Once again, I’m looking out at the beautiful starlit night and the neon lights shining down below against the moonshine…

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