I stood on plains,
broad & boisterous,
as our ancestors whispered
the wisdom fickle fellows
have since forgotten
and on my cheek,
as if the final fall
of grace from greed,
the kiss of zephyr
washed it’s hand
of what’s to come.

Allowed and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly 

Inspired by a Twitter poetry prompt from #DimpleVerse


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