so what if trees reach?
like us,
they have a need
to write poetry on the paper sky.
does it not hurt?
to think of the sky
—which holds us
in and
keeps us
together—-
crumbled
and wrung out
leaking our poetry
into a black rain
that keeps washing us
away?
Photo and poem by Lynn Langmade. Copyright 2014. All Rights Reserved.
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