exit from the past

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the tourist

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Dec 25, 2003
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the shimmering halo of midnight aurora cascades
electric blue over the brown mountains behind the growing forest of green tangles, roots digging deep.
gold miners searching for one final hope under that midnight sky
and there we were, sitting back to back
on the grass stained napsack, talking about the stars,
arms interlocked, hair
upon my shoulder.
and the moon watched on high overhead through the boiling atmosphere, ever unclear
like eyes awaking under the pressure of chlorinated water.
hyphenated words and awkward verbs left unspoken, left unbroken,
bereft and devoid of warmth
those weary travelers along the paths unknown of blazed trail home on through the forest and mountains that made the ground beneath their feet.
who they were, they weren't sure;
where they were going no one knows.
and as their time of rest came to a close and the boy stood from the grass which grows,
giving his hand to the girl with the beautiful smile, to help her off her feet
and walk those endless miles
into the future.
 
great use of the word "aurora". You don't see that one too often.

"and the moon watched on high overhead through the boiling atmosphere, ever unclear
like eyes awaking under the pressure of chlorinated water."

that's really good.
 
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