Mist and pine needles invade my senses
Concrete beneath my feet is painted
With forest feathers
Some still dancing in the winds…
The weather
Is
Perfect
The earth sheds many shades,
Dying
The Sun will soon be crucified
Soon to rise
Again…
My finger graze the wet, rigid skin
Of the deep brown tree
Whispering
At me.
She
Is
Perfect
I marvel, how the earth has been martyred
Personified
To justify
So much…
Stupid
S
H
I
T
“Jesus Christ!”
…The words are drowned, suffocating in the mist
-Kelly Lynn Noll
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