Falling Seeds

Days count down with
interned winds,
Holding tight to the
branches as they sway.

Cracked grey walls hide
sunlight’s freedom,
Trapping thick air,
Starving tired rooms.

Birds perch in the trees,
Songs still against a
howling storm around,
Together against the sand.

Seeds fall to nothing and
feed a growing fire.
Fallen branches burn,
crackle, spit angry sparks.

Days count down with
interned winds,
Holding tight to the
branches as they sway.

falling seeds bilal kayed

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