The Fall

Posted byJake Thomas ShawPosted inMarch Era (IV), PoetryTags:, , , , ,

Pine needles
Lying dead on the ground
Aren’t forlorn
For the loss of themselves

Are the buds next spring
Harboring the same souls
As those decaying into
Dry spears down below?

Is this why
They do not fear the fall?

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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