Simplicity is like a sycamore, <br />Quite nude and living weather to the core. <br />Its terseness speaks to me of skeletons <br />So tissue paper frail against the sun. <br /> <br />I count the bare bones of emotion's dance. <br />The glory and the pity of the circumstance, <br />Lifts us to the apex of poverty, <br />Where there is nothing but a need to be. <br /> <br />Though sunset is a thread upon the hill, <br />And dying light severely tests the will, <br />Just that we matter is of so much worth, <br />We scarcely notice that it costs the earth<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/simplicity/
