Lead me into, the green darkness, under
the nude flames.
It was hurting; the golden sun.
Out of full moon, werewolves would
come out
chasing the flesh, the long limbs
of silence, in asci of fluids, stopped
in tracks.
No seed will grow now in wilderness.
My extended shade becomes anarchic
if fleetingly.
A miracle falling like a hurricane.
Much Needed
Miracles falling like hurricanes would be welcome - world status is not worse it is just faster in reaching the populous via satellite aka internet. Free Press - a cure and a curse: nukes and parasites - luck and survival. ~Stella~