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Pure Form

It was a cold day,
But a beautiful morning;
The sun hid, this morning
The clouds, dark still
A beautiful day, this day.
The houses stood still,
No movement, or activity
No life, just silence
And it was beautiful.
And a frog croaked,
‘Honey, time to leave now,’
Some birds chirped,
And a cock crowed―
It was a beautiful morning.


Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

Categories: Poetry Poetry Wednesday

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Benie Langat

Benie is a poet and fiction writer, living in Nairobi, Kenya. He shares thought-provoking discussions, and occasionally does spoken word poetry and plays. Benie is also a freelance content and article writer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry.

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