A View .

Wild grass under my feet.
Wet, drops of cold.

Gentle breeze pass through,
my hair locks, my eyes.

Trees, a cosmic dance.
Touch their branch,
taste their bark.

The soil brown,
dig my fingers down,
arouse her,
Earth trembles, Passion.

A lake I see,
placid, ready to devour me.
a foot in,
feel the glory.

For a moment,
reality, the migraine, hurts.
I look out,
of my prison cell’s window.

An empty soul,
staring back at me.

Painting : Kris Knight, “Yukonic”

Painting : Kris Knight, “Yukonic”


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