domingo, 12 de março de 2023

Ice taunts the sun

 At the top of that hill
Snow has fallen
happy campers eat so sure of themselves
under the hot sun

All the meanderings of a latent youth
yet it melts
sad campers are washed off their feet
equipment ruined

we run to save them
icy water kicking up 
screaming at the sun angrily
blinding us as we flail

Sun dries it
you all stand thankless
you stare across the valley
The grass glistens provocatively

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