Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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27 03 2014  

Canberran times

It's hell in my lungs: I'm burning from inside. The searing pain Of senselessness Stings my youthful pride. Canberran trees redden: They mirror the desert In my eyes. Consuming themselves Into dying ash, They mimic my dying I. The blood in my vein, The sap in their leaves, All fade out into autumn shades: Such is life that the year goes by. The hell of summer has passed. The death of autumn arrives. I witness from my withering self The passing of Canberran time.