I walk, hear nature's moving sounds
carried slowly through forest paths
nostalgic scent of moist dew grounds.
fleeting dappled somber fingers
unclosing against vast sky, cause
outside world so nimble lingers.
braids of pain stifle my madness
loves unavoidable death; my
head bowed with cherishing sadness.
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Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2020
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