Harvest

threshing commences

elegant flair of a flippant wrist

flailing upon delicate stalks of fruiting grain

beneath the sun is closing

growing dim in the dying days of warmth

drawing shades on another passing moment

greeting the moon

claustrophobic entombment of the granary

no malice

in this action

merely nature

unencumbered by passion or bias

removed

unattached and clinical in approach

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