Mondays are just young Fridays


          Only occasional
slight glimpses of ourselves
                       are left behind
                       in open spaces.
So much to offer,
so much to see,
so many directions.
           All of us going somewhere,
our paths will undoubtedly cross.
How could they not?
We share the same sky.
             Travelling at varied speeds,
each of us with different concerns
and flight plans.
             Where are we going?
Through common skies, and
           with similar questions
                  of where and why,
              we only leave traces.
At least we try.

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