Under the Auroras

Reading the landscape like newspaper headlines.
The solar eye that
critically calibrates reality appropriate to the hour.
I am repeatedly stunned by
How my innermost thoughts tend to get
caught up in the landscape…
As if the lilacs had adjusted their growth
to dismantle my regret
or as if
the trails had been tattooed onto the hills
to distribute my content.
A leakage of my emotional amalgam
has stained the above
and the mauve bellies of the vespertine clouds:
Maybe our thoughts are prone to go astray
on allegoric alleys,
Because for humble carbon based lifeforms
we seem to have plenty of them,
to an extent, our skulls get so crowded,
some thoughts have to relocate.
Kerim Mallée

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