Title Me

No consolation
Dust in my eyes
Wrath in the skies

I sit
Leaning against a tree
Whose leaves are bountiful
Green as anything new
Bursting with life
In the shape of foliage
And branches that reach down
To embrace me

The sun hangs
Destitute
Knowing full well
The night will come
Like a mistress who outshines her
Beauty

Under my feet
Deep in the earth
Its core
Melts and freezes
Over and over
Again

A rumble
Beneath the bright green grass

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