Sunday, December 14, 2014

Divisible

The lushness of the lowlands has been slowly stripped away
as naked mothers comb the mist for children gone astray
the river's cold and sluggish as it crawls between the hills
but here on holy ground I seek relief for all my ills
and though I must admit that the horizon starts to fade
a fraction of my fervor keeps me somewhat unafraid.

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