At 4 pm on a Friday afternoon


Dancing bears with colorful swords

lunge at the whiteness

it is  pristine no more

while in the background thunder storms and ligtening

flow like starbucks espressos

at a late night meeting

each color

blending into the last

until the blur is no more.

And the lumbering bears

leave with shoulders slumped

all meaning lost

all color lost

as the pristine whiteness starts each day, anew.

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