There is a heart with wings
That flies beneath a golden sun that illuminates its shape
Brightening the dark of its red
Sometimes the heart moves gently
Jostling in the air that surrounds it
It does not lower or fade, at least as the mortal eye can see
The heart is and shall be eternal, from some points of view
Made of paint, nails and wood
Containing a message, if not possessing a name
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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