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Coffee and Writing

I am penning letters by hand at my perfectly sized to me desk as the windows are vigorously rain-scrubbed and the gumbo-limbo is lashing its branches wetly against the sodden sky just beyond.  A lone bird, golden as the elusive sun today (so rare! is it an escaped canary?) perches on the tip of the most wildly swinging branch and throws his heart skyward on the song found nestled deep in his hollow bones.

Lightness and joy.