On a morning

violets in the sunrise
acres of sameness erupt over valleys
bring peace to the forests
and we cut them back until we are no longer able to weave stories
of them

the access to the water
a quick way for the village to escape
if all were to go wrong

the quiet of the desert night
drowning all but echoes
the howling wolves
could not bear the loneliness

found homes to shelter under the beds of sleeping children
blink and be missed by it
it will never commit you to unpleasants
if you manage to keep your expression right