This morning unveiled of mist, the winter sun is out.
Lengthens the shadows cast on my notebook.
White pages illumined,
Contrast the distinct outlines of my hand,
And the moving tip of my pen.
Against the rays my eyes squint - a compromise,
That I may bathe in warmth,
And enjoy reprieve from the persistent cold, damp, grey.
I feel the gloom lift from my heart.
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