a new week

the air
hangs heavy
with promise
and possibility

while grace spills out
like tears,
soaking the red dust
of the earth.

and the space
where sky
meets land
seems infinite,
interrupted only
by long blades of lush green
and a woman standing tall,
face tilted slightly
upwards
as she drinks in the hope
that the morning sun offers her
with an outstretched arm.

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