Morning Comes

Sitting cross-legged by the pond,
Watching dark,
From the straw mat I am on
Drifting away from the day,
Watching dark,
As the shadows start to play.

A light reflects in shimmers
From water,
From window it does glimmer,
Muted by gauze dressing veils,
From water,
her shadow easily tells.

Morning comes.

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