The Littlest of Things

I mourn for a love

I do not even know exists

Yet I holdfast

And cling to each modicum

Released to my senses

In birdsong

In a stormy sky

That lifts at dusk

In a word of compassion

Through sacred

Yet briefest of touches

My morsels of raw value

That move me and

Reassures

By heaven

That what I seek for

I will find

  

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