Mars fires paper lies.
Clearly, glacial summer sleeps.
Cedars stand their guard.
Storms erase low-hanging fruit:
Empty secrets cowards sell.
Grief awaits late spring.
Rain falls, men sit together.
Deserts spit their fire.
Later, waves of steam ascend.
Prose laps at the shore.
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
Image: tpsdave
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