Plastic Warfare

The clouds floated on the face of

the water, which flowed

silently under branches of trees.

Nothing moved

nothing stirred

but the grey water.

———————-

Up above the sun shone

cloaking the trees in burning heat

and searing the ground;

charring the last

vestiges of grass

that were not burned

by the salt laced stream.

————————–

The sun fell below

the far off horizon

kindling a breeze,

which blew through the

now empty hostile heartland

—————————

and plastic pieces 

bowled along the broken earth

surviving silently in a scape

devoid of the living.

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H

margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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