Friday, January 27, 2012

Umbra

It settles during the night
and quietly goes about the business of
becoming a bitter fruit.
This shrewd sapling does not want to float boats
nor does it really care.
It grows slow
is unmoved by everything
will cast us all aside.
It is unmolested by radar
a pygmy doubt of the day
in deep cover at night
gone rogue by morning.

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