On a cliff’s edge I sit

Devouring blackberries while the clouds pass by

My mind is awhirl with voices

Trying to pick a single thought out

Is akin to finding a sewing needle hidden

Within a pile of hay

The moment of silence is sudden

And with another clouds passage it’s gone

One day I’ll find that needle

But for now I’ll eat my berries

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-TheEcho-of-VioletRose