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I Am Her Painted Earth

26 Sep

Autumn ‘ere now finds me
weathered silt of her days,
tho’ amassed and seasoned,
am I gilded sweetly o’er
of all her gentle breezes;
she is, to me, like the sun
to my vague, meandering,
albeit incongruous vale,
and I, of obedient palette,
in gradient shades of red,
as her blood spills anon
o’er my once virgin fields;
I am her infinite canvas,
unwed to either sun or moon,
but splayed in acquiesce;
I am her only due course,
for I am her painted Earth,
and she, incessant tide,
inexorable, causal change.

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2 Comments

Posted by on September 26, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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2 responses to “I Am Her Painted Earth

  1. Kunal Thakore

    September 26, 2016 at 7:34 am

    Brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

     

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