The supermoon was rising with
a great aplomb to shame the stars.
At night the buttercups wage a war.
Come unpretending, as you, not him, -
on the lake, becoming a stranger to
yourself. There ia an endless nocturnal confession.
Do you know the poison tree blooms,
when the golden eagle rises to take a dive
on the row of funerals.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 2nd, 2016 23:15
- Category: Nature
- Views: 13
Offline)
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