Under the Tree

Branches softly sing

Ripened enjoying the swing

And I, leaning against the greened,

Shower in fragrant wind

 

Hasten, deepen, harden

the requiem moans and coughs

Arrows spit, through the cavitied shield

Arsons, heathens, treasons

 

Clinging, clinging

to the dried uncomfortable

Till the thermal falls in red

while the blued blow softens air

 

The blank will be blanker

Soon, one must shelter

Safely, with others

And leave… O the leaves!

 

 

Tree

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