Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart
Thursday, July 11, 2019
Only days ago, fresh
These berries, only
days ago plucked,
now sprout
a polar fur.
Already
chemistry finds another
nest to lay its egg.
Life invades from every
opportunity of light, of
drop, of death.
Thirsty and temporary.
One of many
strange things
about this world.
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