A Short & Illustrated Thought #60

WD_2EC7[1]

 

Amongst the corn

telling no secrets

–I’d been warned.

 

Submerged

close to consciousness,

took a breath.

 

From a breeze

etched in green

& white butter

flutter.

 

Passed out

in dirt & dung

& sprung to life,

 

Air, humid hung

brazed & burnt

by a sun.

 

Poorly kept

this furtive; this lemon-drawn

note.  Stooped & overheard—

this cricket-corn.

 

I had been warned.

 

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