Solace
The bright tint,
Of the beaming sun,
Recklessly, hapazardly,
Settling, scattering itself,
Through the bounty of nature,
The thick deep dark woods,
Furnishing the brutes,
The Brookes,
With eternal Sunbeam,
And solace;
The minute lithics and mighty beasts,
Laying in the Haven,
In sheer consolation,
Fearless,
Unconscious,
Heedless,
To even fathom life's unforseen perpetual occurances
Copyright © Rachel Anitra | Year Posted 2021
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