Just when I couldn't decide if I should give in to night
I stand at mornings feet ready to right, write
under the fecund verdant morning light
where greens are greener, even darkness bright
with not a complaint on this glorious day
I could shut me in, or out in spite
but to not get inspired by today,
In the nimbus of white, green and slight grey
my heart'd have to be agonizingly trite
..which it isn't.
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