It goes, bursting into flame found true
In thought it grows, blazing electric blue
We've waited for it, night and day we looked
As age caught us up and turned over wrinkled foot
That remained somewhat arched in clover bush
That remained in this world as the other sought deeper root
Making us simpler still, despite our desire to complicate the truth
Facing us in window plain, though this image we refuse.
Copyright © Bianca Jones | Year Posted 2013
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