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Freedom

By sunny boyPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Wisteria grows slow, up and up

Gripping cracked cobble

Twisting and whipping against warm wild air

Like uncombed strands of head hair.

She reaches high, craning her vines

Towards the grapefruit sun

Like giraffes in search of greener food.

I watch Wisteria in golden hour,

Two suns after a delicate February shower,

Perched on the roof like a spider

In its iron white web,

The chimney is my only friend.

Flames shift and lick in the atmosphere

As serpents escaping their quondam partner.

Not encased in glass cages,

These serpents reside in brick and mortar

With angry colored faces.

Billows of ashen smoke collect speed

Rushing to the sky and eternity.

I lay sideways on the ornate

Rug that rests faceup on the floor.

My milky white dog snores alongside

As I’m not alone in this portrait,

And we act as hot rocks.

nature poetry
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