I searched for you
Half the morning
And in frustration asked
The question in my mind
"Where are you?"
And you replied
"Where the people are"
And sure enough
Sheep sorrel
Your tendency to domestication
Like your namesake
Shined through this wilderness
And by a campfire ring of rocks
I found you
Clinging to disturbed soil
Of where your people trod.
Oh, how lovely. I need to go out walking and exploring too, for soon the snowdrops will be peeking up their heads.
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