The Farming Sky

Bending mats of twigs and trees
branches woven in flutt’ring green
The forests reach with hopeful arms
to touch the gleaming flesh of stars.

The moon takes pity on a lonely path
its aching heart lit up at last.
The skies are thrown as endless fields
as wheaty stars wave on midnight teal.

A million breaths coalesce to form
a single glimpse of light in the storm.
The writhing giants of flame and light
sputter their lives to star the night.

The forest waits in agony
to test the limits of its reach.
It stretches further to caress the sky
as the starlit heavens flow sparkling by.

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