Green
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Green
Pools of cool water,
stones made...
in the great fire,
at the edge of the world.
The essence of the future,
the presence of the past.
Your eyes... they own me.
They put me in a cage,
they use me for amusement.
They torture,
and then let me go...
free.
Then...
they pin me up again,
to beg to stay,
until you have...
no use of me
at all.
A. Foster, Ann Foster, Annette Foster
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2021
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