The Mountain
Oct 5, 2026
I stumble across a sea of thorns, a vineyard blooming gold,
where the sun floats above, amidst the clouds,
their wrinkled droplets white and old.
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Should a stray cat cross my path, a road or a parrot cloud my vision,
but my gaze remains oblivious, fixed on the red horizon.
In the distance, a mountain rises, appealing to my round apple eyes,
like my gaze, it would not waver, waver in a rain disguise.
