October Poem 8: Discarding the Purple Prose of Metaphor

Not true. The sky was not a deep purple

Cloud of wonder. It was just blue slightly

Dimmer. The tops of the trees were not the

Olympic torch handed from one man to

The next. The sun had just dipped behind the

Trees. Or the Earth had rotated on its

Axis denying you the direct path

Of the sun’s light. The purity of the

Sun’s life giving strength was not denied the

Beautiful roses of eternity.

The vegetation (mostly weeds) in that

Exact section of the Earth would simply

Stop photosynthesizing until the

Light of the sun returned the next morning.






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