She holds the waningGold of AutumnAlways in her iris',Illuminating cold grey landscapesWith her tiger eyes,Long after the colored leaves have gone.
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Iris Stories
I kneel on dandelion carpets and weave lilacs between her rose and purple iris, I assume avuncular circumspect on her horizon. Her sky sucks rain that swallows my smoldering sun. Tasmanian blue gum shadows sit restless in the river’s bend. Ornithes Areioi...