#4046 poetry

photo: magical night in Pohara, Golden Bay,…

we were advancing nonetheless,

but in a sort of mist

carefully watching the signs of fate

but there was no fate

only mist

that often dissipated

on a beautiful moonlit evening,

that we looked at eagerly

until the wee hours of the morning, 

like a story to be continued,

that only lacked an ending

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