Green Fangs Poem by GRANT FRASER

Had to edit
the sun out of my picture,
it's big dazzling eye
ball was too much,

but the sheep were calm
in the yellow dark
veils of early evening,

makes all the difference
when you think your
doing it right...

apart from that,
it's a spec of time,
yours...

but it's burning
and burning,
down...
furiously!

I look around,
maybe a bird
is watching,
wow!
and something else
watching it?

a bountiful sense
of green Autumn being,

doesn't come often,
when you feel that serene,

in all that green green
green green bloody green,
yeah! even blood could be green,

just got to drink it...