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lone tree: nature communes in a dream-like landscape Lone tree: nature communes in a dream-like landscape Never picture ready, Joan of Arc is also illiterate. A catnap under a weeping willow and branches are limbs penning the future on themselves: papyrus was cheap in 1430. The Elm as dark sky serpent. The Elm as ink challenged octopus clutching eight styluses. Deciduous beasts cheated all of history’s haikus keeping them secret inside initialed trunks. Huge dinner plate leaves are refracted elbows stroking a soft shoulder, Joan stirs, hating a gentle breeze. Knowing one is a good fit for a cause is different than swimming with poisonous tree frogs. French optimism floods the springs not with macaroons, but mercury laden sewer water. Now the conqueror of snow-capped mountains, tremors. Who is she kidding? The beetles spawn, flip over on their backs, and wave six legs in the sky: a friendly gesture goes unnoticed. This vaudeville act ended hours ago. Volcanoes surround sound in ashy doom. Play this tea party out. Flesh and brain cannot comprehend such a placid Monet mise en scene. Slice it with a butcher knife and it is a mere fragment, no music to entice punctured ear drums, no teeth and tongue parting to sing along the Seine. An embrace from the inside is all anyone wants. Like females, lava has a love hate relationship with rules. #Unreal #Poetry #JenniferMacBainStephens #Metaphor #JoanofArc #Compassion #Fire #Imagery Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.
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