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Climate Haiku Poetry

Ocular Pigmentation

I stare up

Green trees haloed by a cornflower sky

The bristles of their green brush

Sway back and forth, propelled by the wind

The tree tips are haloed by a brightness

It casts a relief about them, outlining and softening their coarse edges

That Aura I see is a trick of the eye and the light.

And probably has some fancy name.

Like Ocular pigmentation.

But to me, here in the wilderness.

It’s magic.