The Perfect Circle

Staring at the new day sun
veiled fog above the rise
Translucent hiding perfect sphere
Shuffling mist smears the sky

Exotics and their native mates
Sit alongside still and wide
Spreading out their sparse leaves
A kaleidoscope of fire

Wet and deep the colours blush
the damp lit canvas glows
Woollen warm-blooded bodies
Rise and graze their nose


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