Bolted to the ground and bruised at the hip
Broken at the rib, where you once lived
The alpine wind comes and goes, who whispers while it whirs?
Something old, something blue, something eternally askew
Psalmist, sinner, and drunken lover never rest
the penultimate play, each must wearily address
Time shuffles forward and now my sins are my own
Paramours of the past echo flowered fields
circling a constellation crookedly sown
Truth survives the second coming intact
but some splendors were never meant to last
Dusky illusions will yield
while parched lips forever compromise in haste
Descending from the rocky summit, will you remember
or did you forget
The broken, the bruised, and the beautiful
sublimely written, wonderfully chaste
Forest corpses reverse and refrain
Only the sun redeems everything sane
Aspen groves gesture comically in the air
waving with faint flickers hello, then goodbye
Golden dusted lines crest every hair
before the cool breeze blows, a fasting sigh
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