~ by Aconitum-Napellus

It is morning
Catkins gold. Wind sun,
Chainsaw sound, a warm buzz
I am tired of trying.
Past noon really
Past noon on this March day
Boulders lie. Grass is weak and brown
I am tired of trying.
But still the sun and catkins gold,
Weak brown grass. The heating sighs.
There is light and warmth.
I am tired of trying.

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