What a strange thing to own,
A view of Mt Spokane,
Windows, frame this home,
And look out toward its peak,
Covered in snow, and tinged
Orange by the sun rising in the East.
No wind, the sky is blue and brilliant,
With a few stray, stratus clouds
And a meandering sparrow.
It’s the kind of day that smiles,
Like I remember you smile,
And your eyes, always trying
To be kind, and painfully respectful,
Even when you should not be.
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