“The Low Ground”
A grave is calm.
The stone rests on weight.
Wind blows in every direction along the surface.
Its ghost can burn resistance.
Dreaming takes place soon out of absence.
Clouds roll away with shattering earthquakes of time.
Pressure is felt under the lid and straw may reveal a dipping bubble.
Love comes around us for this passing of change and stillness.
Eternity and mortality get combined into the horrible, sweet picture.
Just hearing the whistle blow remains mysterious at so much chance.
Favors come and go over these growing red hills towards diminishing returns.
Our moon thus increasing burns its sifting faces along the edge.
Tears drop into the hole until water finds our tears again.
Coming and going, coming and going, coming and going.
Death is calm from the missing picture as our touch returns to the surface.
Years last enough for a returning disappearance upon the mass.
A grave may touch other landing positions while our heads swim in fishes.
Gusts pull us apart near those remote locations in touch for reflection of blood.
So, a resting point like this one isn’t motionless complexes.
https://www.deviantart.com/gameuniverso/art/The-Low-Ground-802595348
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