THE SUN’S MARCHING ARMY

FORGIVE me that i know:
yes is a pleasant country —
while floating within a deep
blue sea ; who is your master?
THE voices sit me before a
grand window opened wide
to smell summer heat and
burning petals are a jumble of
flowers bathed in blue air and
fire. Every living thing is
heavy-breathing and bewitched
and terrible; the World consumes
and rebirths beauty in her blossoms
of rose-rich honey.

:: 07.05.2020 ::