Finding My Poet Soul

Driving down south for spring break I wrote the following:

I saw a forest decimated her trampled leaves were weeping. “Apocalypse” her branches cried. Who smugly says she deserves it? Orange buds then red mistake spring for fall …… drip like blood. tenacious, fighting, breathing, budding, living Encased in the crypt of consumerism defiant dancers declaring….. the restoration of all things!

-WG

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