paint lines
across the green
a work of art
blatantly seen

stocks of gold
reaching high
deep in to – a navy sky

echoy calls
over heard
as the world – captures the sore of a bird

midnight serenades
are still penciled in
like wishes and whispers
– across the skin

the world turns golden
in these hours
when man kind is shrouded
where nature
-is not yet devoured

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