Winter wheat
the frayed tips lit up
all amber rosy by golden hour goodbye
I look upon mounds and stumps where
palatial towers used to soar
the greens and browns of my childhood play.
Rising over this field
I hover in time
encouraging myself to expand
and absorb
the frayed tips lit up
all amber rosy by golden hour goodbye
I look upon mounds and stumps where
palatial towers used to soar
the greens and browns of my childhood play.
Rising over this field
I hover in time
encouraging myself to expand
and absorb
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