Poem: Perfect

7A7C9241-DB6F-4D28-A5B2-23105E6BEC09The birds all sing without concern

For how their song might sound.

Quietly the water runs atop the rock

Without knowing where it’s bound.

With the wind sway the trees

The rustling leaves their royal crown

As the light breaks through 

And dances on the ground.

This beauty and this balance

Abundant life in harmony

But man will burn and chop and pave

The irreplaceable for a penny. 

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