Heather

Ram hands through sky - it's blue enough,

touch expansively purple Heather,

and snap the rooted undertow

that twists like leather. Larks explode

like fountains - picture sirens

shooting their sound. Unconcerned.

Rafaella gathers her mood board,

But watch, the clouds are blowing over

Dew shakes inside a tissue grain.

Can she hear the old refrain?
Always Leave Nature Untamed.

© Wendy Vacani

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