verdant landscape
beams in
naïve optimism
each year choosing
to forget the sun,
swollen with untempered power;
supple stems stiffen
involuntary camouflage
against once-moist soil
now nature’s adobe
stacked
to the horizon, and
pining for an autumn sunrise
Andrew,
Lovely poem. I’ll look for an autumn sunrise to photograph and send to you. It’s pretty dark when I get up. Ugh!
I’ve started using bright light in the morning, hoping to stave off the blahs. I’ll let you know if it works.
Love,
Mom
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