The Haze

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For days it hung around us

ominous, dark and dreary

hiding the sun

not quite the moon.

Cloaking everything

in a dull, yellow fog.

Birds stopped chirping,

the playgrounds lay empty

the world metamorphed

into a strange Dystopian entity.

Is this a sign of things yet to come?

Or a precursor of the future

already arrived for some?

A future turned dark and dreary

by the ignorance, the blindness,

the sheer callousness of those

who see before them

only the God named money?

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The Curious Breeze

There is a gentle breeze
wafting through my window,
softly caressing the sheer,
pale as snow curtains

It whispers softly, urgently
to the pile of brightly hued
many-colored cushions, on the
bare, dark, wooden floor

Fluttering over the bedsheets
it ruffles their pristine calm,
and mischievously rustles the pages
of the books lying all askew

It hovers briefly, over the
little plant hiding in a dark corner,
and wonders, not very deeply,
at its quiet, listless air

Inquisitive, curious, like a child
it flits about my room
touching, feeling,
exploring every cranny

Until, all at once, its gaze lands
upon the green clad vista,
out beyond, and it goes racing,
to flirt with the trees again.