asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,

  • Mood:


with arms and trees and
legs and leaves

yourself the autumn got

and sailed your hair upon the breeze in whispy beams
a lighthouse to my thoughts

in summer rays your willful blooms would wilt the heat away
but autumns soft refreshing things
would keep you ever green.

i mark my passing in your heart and on your cliffs so sure
but for your boughs and tincture stain
you are the sea to me.

i clutch at wheat-crest waves of care across your depths
your wild tinder joy

to beach on winter shores

in art form still
in nature deciduous

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  • (no subject)

    I was wrong.

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    Everytime someone died. color and breath, the fast unfurl of carbon away from death plants that rise and grow, strange citybomb beneath…

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