SOUL FEAST

I sprinkle my self in rivers of sunlight and I burst to the surface of pollen green. The air shivers under the weight of so much heat. The wind moves slow as puddle of water Gets tangled in a red of rhubarb bushes and stays there for a while. Even the

splintered blue shadows of the oak melted into eachother boundaryless and bubbling as a stretch of tar. In a hot shade I saw a unconcerned dried tree, he was unaffiliated of yellows of dawn which was stretching

new wings. I feel he was afraid of nothing not even the indigo prickle of brewing thunderstorms. The tree was watching up into the endless sky. Afraid of nothing. He was standing tall diping in glowing violets. Not even the tangerine endings were bothering him. As he was having nothing to loose whatever comes He just feast and feast.