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Green-Browed Mountains
Seven days in the green-browed mountains
time slowly retreated to the horizon
sun casually took to the foreground
weather was always a foothill or two behind.
moon sighed into its gloaming.
Seven days inhaling green- browed mountains
wildflower sashayed into the veins
no migraine-no chain of cars
no barbed wire news or plastic drama
no carbon monoxide dreaming...
a bumblebee made a path for my eyes.
Seven days devouring green- browed mountains,
Like a bronzed faced kitten I napped beside a stream.
Didn't see God but I know he saw me.
Seven days fasting in green-browed mountains.
A spirit Half cleansed in the sheen of brevity.
Tomorrow, I return to the grey-eyed flats
Into the padded infirmary of puppets and madmen.
Copyright ©
Anthony Biaanco
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