Thursday, April 17, 2014

Organized Oleander Fields

I withdrew you from poppies,
placed you in peonies and that
did not help your troubles.
Your cravings were intense
and yet here we are,
falling into oleander at dusk.
Innocent geese fly over our heads,
moss growth on our cheeks.
We are too hazy from the ash
travelled on wind
from the volcano expressing
its joy to be alive again
miles from here.

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