the molded tufts which abound
the molded tufts which abound, rich with stuff covers the ground. sage, mustard and bitter brush rage up to the rays blaze, of our suns descending mush. pushing on through sailors delight, beyond mountains of melting silhouettes drawing night. clouds tumble weed into piles, a barrel roll cascading hazel blue. scene of some odd forty miles, juniper species in their crouching hue. dark green contorted spires separating vision into foreground and sky. choral speaking red-winged blackbirds cackling higher. tempo airy to croaking frogs deep drone bass sighs. taking advantage of this poem i recite, temporary insanity passes on the tongue, buzzing in the ear, feasting where they alight. mosquitos, a living hell. distant coyotes hoop and howl. dusk belts out twilights song.
taking old semi-not-so-me shoe off, thrown it on the floor, sideways spiraled a join the left, outside my window of the same old view yet the cartoons new, a blue bird with a red breast, frozen in warmth of a babes yawn
while sitting in the sun as i asked myself why, a seed mocking a fairy from a cattail drifts bye, very simple is this fairy but more precious than a rose, very delicate be that creature who carelessly through time flows, i want to touch this sprite and without thinking except of me, jumping wildly i to catch it, just to hold it close to the, but ungraceful my attainment, resulting in what i not planned, for i crushed the tiny fate in the grasp of my hand, i clenched my eyes dying, trice in the wrong i'd done, courage dissipated and from my glance i subsist, saw a seed in my palm in the sun
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