Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

when it ends

The petals sit aground,
misplaced snowflakes,
below grays and whites and blues,
swollen creeks, rushing icicles,
through yellow brown earth caverns.
We are in the dark.
We are in the dark.
Darkness broken by cloud-stained
light patches;
eyes sense ultraviolet,
microwave tower lights winking,
distant mourners missing spring.
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