1812. is this the overture

to something better, yet what can get

better than this, no jealousies, no

expectations, no anger, when none

is needed.

when all around us is raging, rain

against blind window, mid winter.

music plays, soft covers sooth,

plain thoughts to guide the

next sentence, the composition.

now we ask.

this is the countryside. candle sticks.

sbm.

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