i dreamed a field
meadows of green
and rolling clouds
trees that whispered silently
secrets that no one else knew
i carried a basket of the finest delicacies
port, brie and poetry
the set was locked, it was impeccable
i lilted a melody, immaculate
the sun set low, the sun set low
the meadow darkened, ashen, barren
upon my lips was the glass
revealing itself empty, desolate, dry
1 comment:
nice repetition, you don't do that often
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