what can we wish for?

a small death

led to a month of plastics

before the wind took over

and called the rain

to herald the most lovely month

(I couldn’t bear it)

 

the sun bled a little

before sparks made night

as thrilling as the fishing hole

held away the next day

 

a chill made the trees dreamy

as death grew close again

but we celebrated just the same

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