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dawn MaryJane Nordgren dawn MaryJane Nordgren

glitter that is gold

sudden, brilliant heralds

only mount hood ghost-like on my horizon this morning

chill, pallid fog has muted the blue of portland’s west hills and pale

more distant cascade range

until flakes of burnished gold and snippets of vivid pink spurtle

like pinprick explosions of color to vouch for the coming of day

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