In Envy Of Nature

Me, my dozen small birds,  
remembered Earth’s rose skirts  
all around a lichens stone bed,  
Before arranging seeds between  
tree branches, but by dark,  
doom took their darkness.  
Heard the insects’ kingdoms,  
of something among nothing  
as stars slept;  
So tenderly, white moths  
do better in  
luminous morning times,  
Who light fire pockets floated,  
breathing full on river water.  
She thought if they fell, and  
vanished back into night.  
At least I never had thoughts,  
grappling with Her perfect work.
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
Published | Edited 7th Feb 2019
Author's Note
A special write for the challenge “Poetic Medic #2: To The Poem's Rescue”. The hosts have participants compose a new piece from 80 words from an existing poem.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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