THE FIERY WILLOWWACKS

A golden hour

In thickets flare

Aflames the air

The woods aglare

The twigs afire

Did suspire

He the day calls dreams nightmare

The oceanic waves douse the fire

Adown the mountains and quagmire

A shaft of sunlight and unlit byre

A drove of cattle with trumpets ablare

©️LIL ARCHA