taste the brown
dark and bitter
slide into the mind
awaken the soul

smell the brown
cool and damp
rich beneath
the plow blade

hear the brown
as he calls
from the treetops
hawk with his prize

feel the brown
smooth beneath fingers
strong and sturdy
sweet leather protects

see the brown
as rain washes detritus
into the river
carry balls and bottles to the sea


April Wells

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