poetry by j matthew waters

resurrecting false blue indigo

false blue clouds hang over
from day before
blotting out an anxious sun
adding worries to an already
dramatically murderous summer

it was the year nothing bloomed
as world wars waged on

but the vegetables we grew
and harvested (underneath the radar)
were more than completely edible
but keeping it secret
played out to be impossible

august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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