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Opened the window yesterday,
from off the bay, a breeze,
cool beneath the sun’s blaze,
blew in and brought me
laughter from next door,
overhead, geese honking,
from the street, tinkling music
of an ice cream truck;

then images, like dreams,
drifted through the window to me,
the last a steep hill,
long grass blowing,
the far side of the hill a cliff
that dropped off to the sea,
beyond, the pinks of sunset fading;

on the cliff’s edge,
facing north, a house;
I live there, sometimes at peace
and sometimes lonely,
sometimes lifted
by exhilarating winds
that sing to me.